Lost, and Found
by Wandaristsa
Summary: Isabella Swan has lost all trust and confidence in mankind - battered by the brutality of her mother's abuses. Can the kind Cullens - and Edward especially, help Isabella find herself, and restore her confidence?
1. Chapter 1

Lost, and found

Jasper Whitlock Age 29

The girl's face was white and drawn, a stark contrast to her dark mahogany hair which framed her thin face. Her eyes were large and brown, steadily fixated on the desk which I sat behind. Her thin hands gripped the arms of the chair she sat on, the whiteness of the knuckles proof of the force behind the grip.

"Isabella Swan, right? That is your name?"

She nodded minutely, mutely, still refusing to make eye contact.

I sighed inwardly. In all my 15 years as a psychiatrist and therapist, I had never been tasked with such a difficult and complex case. Isabella Swan, aged 16, was a victim of severe child abuse for most of her life, the extent of which had led to her muteness, and her constant refusal to make any kind of eye contact. Her case file came to me incomplete, simply stating that she could not talk, would not talk, and would not make eye contact with anyone. Her father had passed away when she was little, and her alcoholic mother brought her up, subsequently abusing her during boughs of drunkenness. It also stated that Isabella was a victim of bullying at school, too. I was shocked and appalled at the people who had led her into this state of obvious mental, emotional, and physical agony, and at lost as to how to help this poor girl.

And this was saying a lot. I, Jasper Whitlock, had the perfect track record of helping every single one of my patient get better. I had helped dozens of broken females from rape cases get over their fear of males and rebuild their confidence; helped people with absolutely no self-confidence discover theirs, not to mention the tons of mental disorders I had cured over the years. But no patient had ever stumped me like this one, sitting in front of me, unmoving, unblinking. I didn't know where to start, how to start, what to do. To make matters harder, Isabella Swan was going to be adopted tomorrow. A kind couple whose children had all grown up already offered to adopt Isabella, and the overworked and underpaid social care system here had jumped at their offer, all too glad to get any of their charges off their case. The emotional upheaval was going to take a toll on this already all too fragile soul.

Breathing deeply, I squared my shoulders and attempted once more to communicate with her, to help her. If I had to use every technique in the books, or adopt and invent my own to get through to this girl, I would. There was no way I would give up, especially on Isabella Marie Swan, who was clearly in dire need of help.

Isabella Marie Swan Age 16

I stared at the brown table in front of me, refusing to meet the gaze of the psychiatrist, or therapist, whichever he was.

My throat stung and burned with every breathe I took. I dug my nails into the cushioned arms of the chair I was sitting in, trying not to cry out. I was tired. All I really wanted was to be able to go to sleep without seeing visions of her approaching me with the knife, slicing my arms slowly, deliberately. The blood I saw behind my lids when I closed them terrified me. In the back of my mind, I knew she was gone. But somehow, the fear that she would come back with her knife, her fire tongs, or the bucket of bleach she used to make me scrub the floor bare handed with would not go away. The even greater fear that one of her boyfriends would return, strip me bare and intrude parts of my body with things that really did not belong in there lingered too. Oh, god. Just the thought of it made me cringe, and want to scrub myself free of the filth.

"Isabella Swan, right? That is your name?"

I was brought back to the present, saved from my own horrifying memories by the blonde doctor sitting in front of me. I'm such a loser that I can't even save myself from my own thoughts. I sensed the doctor's gaze on me, but I refused to meet his eyes. He wouldn't understand, I simply didn't want to see the hate in people's eyes anymore.

But I had to acknowledge my name, as much as I wished it didn't belong to me. Or as much as I wished I was a different person, living a different life. So I nodded my head, which sent a jolt of pain up my spine. Ouch.

"Right, Isabella. That's quite a mouthful, isn't it? Can I call you Bella instead?"

Bella. Somehow, I like the sound of it. Someone new, someone different, without my past. I nod again. This blonde doctor is turning out nicer than I thought, but maybe it's just a façade, one can never be sure about people.

He is talking about my adoption tomorrow, his southern accent strangely calming. A nice middle aged couple is willing to take me in, and help me. He says they will like me, and care for me. I'm not sure how I feel about that, though. I would like very much to be away from the orphanage, but yet, to have to stay with people I don't know is a terrifying thought. What if they turned out to be like Renee? If my own biological mother hates me so much, how can anyone else not hate me, not to mention, like me?

Esme Cullen, Age 44

The sight in front of my eyes breaks my heart, and I swear to protect this girl from any further harm. I will provide her a warm and caring home, one that she never knew before. Isabella Swan, the girl that Carlisle and I will be adopting, is so thin and underweight; it looks like the wind can snap her. Her face is deathly pale, and beneath her large eyes are purple bruises. She keeps her head down, staring at the floor. Beside her is a pathetically small luggage with all her belongings. She holds the luggage with one hand, and clutches her arm with the other in a defensive posture.

"Isabella, listen to Mrs. Cullen, alright? Be a good girl now, remember to behave!" The caretaker of the State's orphanage tells her.

Isabella nods, and winces, reaching a hand to clasp the back of her neck. Clearly there's been some injury. I reach a tentative hand out to her.

Isabella Marie Swan

Esme, my new foster parent reaches a hand out to me. I shrink back out of instinct. Seeing her hand, I think of Renee's. Renee's hand. Slap. Her blood red nail polish. Her hand, red from blood. My blood. The knife in her hand.

Suddenly, all I can see is Renee's hand with the knife, and blood – a lot of it. I try to run away from what I'm seeing, but my feet won't move. I take a breath, willing the sight to disappear, but it won't, and my lung starts to burn. I try to scream, but I can't, and my throat feels like it's been ripped open. I sob and try to back away, but all I can see is the blood, my blood, on Renee's knife, on the furniture.

"Isabella! Bella, Bella! Bella!"

I hear my name, but it isn't Renee's voice. Unlike Renee's shrill, sharp voice, this one is soothing, low, and sweet. Who does it belong to? I can't think straight, everything's a mess. My head is spinning, and I can't seem to keep my feet on the floor.

Carlisle Cullen, age 46

I run towards the source of the commotion, and see Isabella, the girl we're adopting today in a corner, sobbing, crying, and hyperventilating. Her eyes are wide open, but they don't see. Her mouth is open, but not a sound comes out. Oh my god.

I have to get her out of this state of shock; it's not good for her already too frail body. Grabbing the glass of ice water on the table, I pour it over the girl, trying to bring her out of shock.

"Isabella, listen, I'm Carlisle Cullen, and you're safe, okay? Calm down, darling, breathe. In, out. In, out."

She seems to be coming around. Her eyes blink rapidly, and her breathing slows down to an acceptable rate. I grab the other glass of water, and hold it out to her.

"Isabella, have some water. You're alright, you're safe, okay?"

Isabella Marie Swan

Suddenly, I am soaked in ice cold water, and back in the foyer of the orphanage, without Renee.

A guy with copper hair tells me he is Carlisle Cullen, and that I'm safe. He holds out a glass of water to me, which I drink gladly. It relieves the burning sensation in my throat. A raw, bleached throat and screaming just doesn't go well together.

I remember Esme reaching her hand out to me, and then Renee. I feel so bad, and the tears keep falling. I want to tell them that I'm sorry, but I don't know how to. I can't speak, clearly, and I don't know sign language.

Esme seems to know what I'm thinking, though.

"Oh, Isabella, don't be sorry, it's not your fault, alright? Now, drink the water, you'll feel better."

Ah. The sweet voice I heard earlier was hers. Oh, if only she was as nice as her voice sounded. I feel tempted to look in her eyes, to see if she is as nice as she sounds, but I can't.


	2. Chapter 2

Carlisle Cullen

We pull up in the driveway of my house after the long drive home from the Seattle Social Care State Orphanage. I had already told the only other inhabitant of our 3 story house, my son Edward, that we would be bringing Isabella back today, and had warned him not to frighten her – not that a fully grown 24 year old guy in Medical School would need such warning. Still, I couldn't help but worry how things would go – given her response to us in the foyer of the Orphanage. Isabella was obviously in a very fragile state, her mother had done much damage to the poor girl – and she was in dire need of help.

Glancing at the rear mirror, I saw that Isabella was awake, staring out the window with her large brown eyes, a sad expression in them. Oh, Isabella, my child, I promise everything will be better here.

Bella Swan

Finally, after the 3.5 hr long car ride, we pulled up in front of a large 3 story stone and glass mansion. _Oh my gosh_, I thought. These people are _really_ rich. The house looked inviting, despite the enormity of it all. A well groomed garden surrounded the driveway, with a wooden swing and seesaw in it – remnants left behind of the children Esme and Carlisle Cullen had, I supposed.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by Esme informing me that we had reached their home. Stepping out on to the porch, I started to shake inside. What would happen if they didn't like me? Well, chances were they didn't, but what would happen nonetheless? Would they beat me, or make me scrub the floor with bleach bare hands? Oh god, and the house was really very big, that would be a very painful scrubbing experience. I couldn't drive – how was I to escape back to Seattle? Oh dear. Butterflies began to develop in my stomach, and I tried my best not to throw up whatever contents my stomach held as I stood by the side of the door holding my pathetic luggage, head down, waiting for Carlisle to open the door – and my doom, so to speak.

Edward Cullen, age 24

The doorbell rang suddenly, jarring me out of my studies on the effect of Encephalitis virus on 14 day old mice and the potential cures to Encephalitis A virus. I jump out of my seat to get it, and as I race to the door, I remember that the girl Esme and Carlisle are adopting will arrive today.

They had sat me down in the kitchen one night after lessons, and told me that they would be adopting a 16 year old girl who had once been abused very badly. Hence, I was to behave sensitively around her, and not frighten her. I had rolled my eyes then– what was this girl, fragile Swarovski crystal glassware that would break at the very touch?

I yanked the two large wooden front doors open, and found myself face to face with the most exquisite girl I ever saw.

She had large brown eyes that looked terrified, the colour of deep chocolate, the kind you could get lost in for days, months, years… Her hair was so soft and brown; my hands itched to feel how soft it really was. She was very fair, her skin almost translucent. I had no idea how long I spent staring at her, until she looked away, staring down at the ground, and Carlisle cleared his throat abruptly.

"Edward, this is Isabella. Isabella, that is Edward, my youngest son. He's studying medicine at the university. Why don't we all go in?"

As I stepped aside to let Isabella and my parents through, I could not help thinking – what a fitting name – Isabella – beautiful, for an equally beautiful girl.

Bella Swan

Oh my goodness. I was staring resolutely at the wooden double door of the entrance to the Cullen's home – my place of residence for the next 2 years at least, willing myself not to throw up when suddenly the fine dark brown grains in front of my eyes was replaced by an extremely good looking man with green eyes. I found myself shocked – and frightened all at once. Who was this guy who I actually thought was good looking? I didn't even think I was capable of such thoughts – all guys were evil, repulsive, and abusive in my opinion. Immediately, I snapped my eyes down to the floor. There, the hardwood parquet of the porch was safer. With it, I knew what to expect. I mean hardwood flooring would hardly jump up and devour you right? Unlike people, who could be nice to you one day, and attempt to take your life the next, like Re -. I stopped myself mid track, before thoughts of her could send me into another panic attack, and concentrated on the patterns on the hardwood parquet.

Finally, after what seems like forever, Carlisle introduced that guy who appeared right in front of me, and who, I sensed was still staring at me as his son, as Edward.

We entered the house, and as I followed Carlisle into the house past Edward, my arm accidentally brushed his, sending sparks up my entire arm. I blinked, shocked, but Carlisle was still walking, and I had to quicken my pace before I lost sight of him in this gigantic maze that was apparently his home.


	3. Chapter 3

Isabella Swan

Carlisle leads me to a room on the 2nd story – between the master bedroom and what was Edward's room apparently, and tells me that it's mine. I stare at the ground, and nod, trying to convey my gratitude – and he tells me that they'll leave me to unpack for the moment. I nod once more, the action sending a jolt of pain up my spine. I enter the room, and begin to pack what pathetic amount of belonging I possess, taking the time to take in my surroundings. The room – my room now, is fairly large, with large windows overlooking the woods, an adjoining bathroom, and a smaller room that I decided was the closet I unpack my belongings with methodical precision, taking relief in the routine actions that I knew so well – holding on to that small semblance of familiarity that I was suddenly stripped of.

Having packed my belongings away, I sit on the bed, and suddenly, the overwhelming sense of being lost and confused drowns me. I realize that I have no clue what to do next or how to conduct myself here – and that feeling is sickening. I try to swallow my blind panic, and attempt to clear up the fog in my head to think of what to do next. Did Carlisle or Esme tell me what to do after I pack my stuff? Was I even listening? Shit- what if they told me, but I didn't pay attention? Were they going to beat me, punish me for not listening? Images of Renee raising her arms holding her belt to whack me flashes past my eyes, and suddenly I'm not at Carlisle's glass mansion anymore – I'm back at my old house with Renee.

She approaches me with a bucket of foul smelling liquid, and I back into the corner. I had tried to do as she told me to – truly – I had no clue what I missed out.

"Isabella, you naughty useless child. I told you to bleach the toilet, did I not? I told you to scrub the bowl with your hands – did you?"

I tremble, and shiver, trying to make myself disappear. No, I did not scrub the bowl with my hands – I didn't think Renee would find out.

"Your punishment – drink this, since you wouldn't use it for what it's worth! You're just as worthless as that disgusting toilet bowl – full of shit. I don't even know why I gave birth to you. Why didn't I abort you when I had the chance to? "

I try to blink back my tears, but they keep falling. I know Renee was drunk, but her words stung me – abort me? Seriously?

Renee forces the bucket towards me and I have no place to hide. She tips the bucket towards my mouth, and forces it into me. The liquid stings my throat, my eyes, and suddenly everything is on fire. I scream, but more liquid goes into my mouth, and the burning worsens. Renee is screaming and shouting now, hitting my everywhere, but I cannot register anything, the pain is everywhere, there is a ringing in my ear I can' get rid of. She grabs the kitchen knife, and starts stabbing me with it everywhere. The metallic smell of blood stings my nostrils, and I try to escape, flailing my arms widely. Suddenly a pair of hands are on my neck, lifting me up and pressing me against the wall. I can't breathe - all I can think of is getting away.

Edward Cullen

I hear some banging going on next door – and wonder what the girl is doing. Suddenly there is a choked scream, and I run next door, banging the door open to find Isabella Swan crying and screaming silently, balled into a corner. She is flinging her arms widely, her eyes tightly shut, her body shaking with the force of the sobbing. I am horrified, terrified, the painful sight causing my heart to ache for her. I rush over to help her, but she shrinks away from me, and starts to hyperventilate, still screaming silently.

At lost, I scream for my dad.

"Dad! Dad! It's Isabella! DAD!"

Esme Cullen

I rush to Isabella's room upon hearing the commotion, and the girl is shrieking silently, sobbing and shaking, her eyes tightly shut. Carlisle pours a mug of water over her, but it does not help. He is shaking her, trying to wake her up from the mental nightmare she must be going through – but her sobbing gets worse. Suddenly, Edward reappears, with a bucket of ice. Unceremoniously, he dumps it over her head. The violent cold shocks her, and she stops flailing as quickly as it all started.

Isabella Swan

Suddenly I feel cold – hopelessly cold. I open my eyes, and I see Carlisle in front of me, a look of pain and concern on his face. Edward is standing beside him, holding a bucket, staring at me. Esme is beside me in a moment, and she wraps her arms around me. I just want to disappear – why can't I stop seeing Renee even when she's gone? The frustration is too much to bear, and tears leak out of my eyes. I stand up, trying to apologize properly to these nice people who I have troubled once again, but I don't know how. Suddenly, my legs won't hold up, and everything turns black.


	4. Chapter 4

Esme Cullen

We are eating dinner – or at least, 4 of us are eating dinner while Isabella is _drinking_ hers. Despite her fainting after the breakdown a moment ago, the girl insisted she was fine to join us for dinner.

I marvel at her strength and bravery. Despite all she's obviously gone through, Isabella is still so strong; I know she will be fine, we will help her get better.

Emmett Cullen, 24 yrs

The skinny girl whom Esme has just taken in is eating her food – or drinking it – at snail pace, as if it will disappear all too soon and she'll not have anything to eat for months afterwards. She is so skinny and obviously malnourished. Her wrists look _snapable_ (yes, there's probably no such word, but how else could I describe it?)

She stares at her bowl of overly mashed potatoes fastidiously (I even know this word, brilliant much?), and doesn't make eye contact with anyone at all. She doesn't speak at all, either. I don't like not being talked to, but the sorrowful look in her pair of brown eyes tells me to give her time, to give her space, until she feels more comfortable around my large 230 pound 1.9 metre self.

Isabella Swan

Dinner is delicious. Not even the fact that I feel uncomfortable around these 4 other people, including a giant to boot could mar the fact that my bowl of mashed potatoes taste out of this world. Even though the potatoes were liquefied so I could drink it, it still tasted fantastic, like nothing else I'd ever eaten in my entire 16 years. I drink my dinner slowly, savouring the taste of it on my tongue. Even if they get rid of me tomorrow, at least I'll have the memory of these wonderful mash potatoes. At least I'll have a single pleasant memory to look back on in my 16 years of life. I'm glad I came down to eat dinner with them, even though I was pretty much out of it 2 hours ago. Yes – I had 2 breakdowns in 24 hours since meeting these people. Honestly, what do they think of me? A weak, troublesome girl who's not worth the pains to take care of, probably. I'm just waiting for the other shoe to the drop, for one of them to snap and hit me, or send me back. But in the back of my mind, I really want them to like me; I really want to stay here, for the next 2 years of my life, at least.

I stand to wash my bowl, but Esme won't have any of it. "Nonsense!" was her firm reply. "That's what the _dishwasher_'s for, Bella. So we don't have to wash them!"

After she takes the bowl from me and places it in the dishwasher, she starts it, and turns back to me.

"Would you like some desert? Something to drink, perhaps?" She asks.

I'm not sure if I can drink or eat anything more and keep it all down. As it is, the bowl of mashed potato was the most I had eaten in my entire life in a seating, and I wasn't sure that my stomach could process it all. So I shake my head, and try to communicate to her that I'm good by smiling.

It's annoying, not being able to speak. But my throat hurts, and I'm afraid that I'll get into trouble if I speak. So I try to communicate, without words. It's all for the better, I think. They haven't beaten me yet, and even gave me food.

Esme tells me that I'm free to do whatever I want, sleep or otherwise, until tomorrow. I retire upstairs to my room, and go to take a bath. I strip my clothes, avoiding the mirror, and hop in the shower. The warm water cascading down my back feels so good, despite the initial sting at all the wounds and scars. I try not to think about what placed them there in the first place, and enjoy the clean water.

I will enjoy my time here, I tell myself. Esme and Carlisle said they won't hurt me, right? But what if the other shoe drops, and it's all a facade? Worrisome thoughts bombard my already fatigue self. I close my eyes, and will sleep to bring me elsewhere, to a land where I wasn't Isabella Swan, abused daughter of Renee Dwyer.

It's morning, and the sun is shining brightly into my room through the open curtains. I blink and try to gather my wits about me.

For a moment, I panic. This does not look like my room at the orphanage. Where on earth am I? I cannot seem to gather my bearings fast enough, and my heart is beating faster with every second that I fail to remember where I am.

I am on the verge of a breakdown when I hear Esme's voice from outside.

"Bella? Are you awake? Breakfast is downstairs if you'd like some!"

Oh. Right. I'm at the Cullen's place, my foster parent's house for the next 2 years at least. Knowing where I am calms me down, and my heart rate slows exponentially to a normal beat.

"Bella?"Esme calls once more, and I realise that I should try to let her know that I'm awake.

I open the door and there stands Esme, looking worried.

I stare at her bare feet and nod, telling her that I'm alright, and nod some more to try and signal that I'll be down for breakfast shortly.

She seems to understand me, and from the corner of my eye, I can see her smile, lighting up her beautiful face.

"Alright, I'll be downstairs. Let me know if you need anything, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?"

I nod once more. Yes, I slept well, better than ever. For once, I wasn't woken up by Renee, who took great pride and joy in disturbing my sleep to drag me outside to scrub the porch at 3am with bleach for the sake of torturing me. For once, I did not wake up in fearful anticipation of what Renee might spring upon me in the middle of the night.

Esme smiles again. Good, she says. We want you to be comfortable here. We want you to enjoy life.

I am uncomfortable with her concern over me, but I have to admit, it's a nice feeling that someone cares. Someone cares about me. Even if it's untrue, it's still nice to have someone concerned over my wellbeing for once in my life. I feel... wanted, at last.

Esme Cullen

Isabella joins me for breakfast at the dining room shortly after. She looks less tired and less stressed, and I feel glad. I push a bowl of soft oats and honey towards her, and tell her that it's her breakfast. Pointing to a bowl of fruits, I tell her that it's also for her. Oats taste great with strawberries, I say.

She looks astonished at the spread before her, like she'd never been offered so much food in her entire life. Her brown eyes are wide and round, in surprise.

I feel torn at her obvious lack of care and nourishment before, and tell her once more that it's all hers to eat. You have to gain some weight, darling, I tell her.

She nods her assent, still not looking me in the eyes, but smiles in my direction. I can tell that she's making an effort to communicate her thanks, and I tell her thanks too, for trying to communicate with us.

After breakfast, I tell Bella that she needs some new clothes and supplies. All she's wearing is a thin, threadbare t-shirt, with a blue school skirt. I realise that it's not warm enough for the near freezing temperatures we experience daily here in Forks, and tell her that we need to get some new clothes and supplies for her.

She shake her head vehemently, the first outright refusal she's displayed since she comes here. I am shocked. Honestly, she really needs some new clothes, warm clothes, at least. She'd freeze to death otherwise! I try to tell her that again, but she shakes her head once more, and with such force that I am afraid she might twist her neck.

Isabella Swan

Esme is telling me that I need new clothes, because Forks is too cold. Yes, I know my clothes are too thin for the weather here, I am already feeling cold indoors, but I have no money, surely she knows that? I could wear a few more layers, which would work; I try to sign to her. But she is adamant that I need more clothes.

"No, Bella, you need more clothes. Warm clothing. It is my duty as a parent to make sure you do not freeze to death, sweetheart. Here, let's go upstairs and see what you have, and what you need, alright? If I see that you have enough, then I will not get you more clothes."

She tries to reason and compromise with me. Ok, fine. You'll see that I have enough clothes. I have 4 t-shirt, 1 pair of jeans, 2 pair of school skirts, 3 sets of underwear, and 1 cardigan. It's more than enough for a lowly being like me.

We go upstairs, and I pull open my clothes drawer for her. She stands there for a long moment, and does not speak. See, Esme, I have enough clothes. Told you so!

But when she does speak, she is disagreeing.

"No, Isabella, this will not do. You'll certainly freeze to death. Come, we'll get some warmer wear for you. These clothes are too... thin. Not the fabric to survive cold weather."

She sees my upset look, and amends.

"It may be fine for summer in Phoenix darling, but not Forks. It's barely 5 degree Celsius outside, you can't go round in a shirt and cardigan, surely you know that, right?"

But I have no money, Esme. How do I tell you that? Even if you buy me clothes now, I will never be able to pay you back, because I have no money. I shake my head some more.

Esme is quiet for a long time, and I wonder if I'd angered her. I chance a look at her face, and what I see surprises me. She is sad, concerned, but definitely not angry.

She sees me looking at her, and smiles suddenly.

Esme Cullen

I see Bella looking at me, and the bit of eye contact makes me smile. She immediately looks back down though, and I wish she won't be afraid of looking people in the eye.

I have an idea. She won't let me buy clothes for her, but in the meantime, she can wear some of Alice's and Rosalie's old clothes which they have outgrown. Some of the clothes are still brand new.

"Bella, you can have some of Alice's old clothes. Some are still brand new, and they would keep you warm. You don't want to buy new clothes, that's fine, at least have their clothes, alright?"

She seems to find that agreeable, and after a bit, she nods, biting her lips slightly. She chances another glance at me, and smiles shyly when she sees that I'm smiling too. The simple smile makes my heart sing, and I am happy that she is not sad.

We proceed to the library, where I keep all of our old clothes that are still relatively new.

Isabella Swan

Esme is digging through boxes of clothes. Oh my gosh, these people are really rich. They have boxes of old clothes, which are barely worn. Some of them still have their tags on.

Esme hands me 4 pairs of jeans, countless t-shirts, a couple of skirts, many sweaters, many many jackets, and 3 woollen coats. My arms are loaded with all the clothes she hands me, and I've probably never owned this many clothes in my entire life.

"Bella, go try these on first and see if they are your size." She directs me to the adjoining bathroom, and I start to try on the clothing. I start with the jeans. The label reads DKNY. Is that... branded? Oh my. It fits me just fine, though the waistline is a little loose. I try not to think about the cost of all these, since Esme said they were old clothes, that simply did not fit her children anymore, and she'll be upset if I didn't take them. All the clothes fit. Some are a little loose around the waist and hips, but that's alright. I exit the bathroom with the clothes in my hands, and nod, telling her that they fit.

"Great! Here, then, take all these. They're probably your size."

She hands me another dozen or so articles of clothing, and tells me to bring them to my room. She also tells me that they're mine now. I am shocked, gratified, and confused all at once.

No one has ever been so kind as to give me clothes and so many beautiful clothes at that. My own mother never bought me any clothing. My school skirts were from the school's donation drive, the shirts were from a neighbour, the rest were from dumpsters, clothes thrown out by people.

I feel my eyes well up at the kind gesture of it all. Once again, she reinforces the fact that she cares for me, that she wants me here. That knowledge makes me happy. Extremely happy. So much so that I cannot express my feelings.

Esme looks at me, and embraces me in a hug all at once.

Darling, she says. We want you here, don't ever doubt that. What's in the past is in the past, alright?

I nod against her, enjoying the warmth of being hugged. I don't think Renee ever hugged me. Hugging was a very foreign concept, and I found that I liked it. I didn't panic from her touch this time. In fact, I leant into her embrace, enjoying the feeling.

Esme has never made me feel threatened in any way. She's only showed kindness and concern. Surely she is a good person, right? Maybe for once, someone does not dislike me. For once, I feel liked, welcomed, and I'll enjoy that feeling while it lasts, to heck with what my brain tells me- that I'm not worthy of all these.

Carlisle Cullen

My wife called me shortly after lunch, telling me that all is going well at home with Bella. I am happy to hear that. Seeing Bella torn and broken breaks my heart too. I want this arrangement to work for her. When the social workers approached me with her case, I accepted it after reading it immediately. I knew we were what she needed to get well. Money was not an issue, we'd get her the best therapists and doctors. As for a safe and warm home, we could offer her that too. My 3 kids were all adults already, and Esme would have time on her hands to take care of Bella. I saw that my family could offer her the home she never had, and accepted her as my foster daughter. Everyone deserved a break from life, especially her, right now.

Esme Cullen

It's almost 3pm. After having given me the clothing, Esme sent me to pack them away, and told me I could do anything I want with my time, as long as I was down for lunch at 1pm. I packed my clothes, took my medications, and sat on the floor of my room, reflecting on all that has happened in the last 24 hours or so.

It is clear that the Cullen's are kind people. At least, Esme, Carlisle, and their son, Edward, seem kind enough. Esme has made it clear that she wants me here, and I think I would like to live here too. I like Esme, she is kind, warm, and for some unfathomable reason, shows me concern. The feeling of being cared for is strangely pleasant. As I sit on the floor thinking, suddenly I hear footsteps coming up the stairs.

I turn around abruptly, and a bronze heard of hair with emerald eyes greets me.

"Hey, Bella, right? Are you.. .alright?"

Edward, their son, is the noise coming up the stairs. I stand up, and nod my head shyly, avoiding his eyes. He saw me have a breakdown yesterday, what must he think of me?

Apparently, he doesn't find me particularly repulsive, because he steps into my room and continues talking.

"I'm glad that you're alright. How do you feel today? You look much less stressed, you know."

I nod again, unsure of what else to do. I offer him a half smile, trying to tell him that I'm fine, I'm perfectly fine, I'm happy here, your mother's the nicest person I ever met, and that I'm grateful your family took me in even though I'm not worth the trouble.

He takes the smile as an invitation to continue talking though.

"That's wonderful. Are you planning on going to school any time soon?"

Um, how do I answer that now? I would like very much to go to school; learning and gaining knowledge has always been a joy in my life when I attended school in Phoenix. Even though my classmates shunned me and I did not participate much in lessons, I enjoyed just sitting there absorbing new facts. I would like to go to school here too, if I was allowed, but I don't know how I would deal with all those people.

But instead of telling him all that, I shrug my shoulders, and offer him another half smile.

He nod, satisfied at my answer apparently, because he grins and turns to leave, telling me that I can always find him if I need help, he's just a door away.

Edward Cullen

I can't help but check on Isabella Swan when I return home from school. The beautiful girl obviously needs help, and I would like to help her as much as I can. I feel drawn to her in way I don't understand, but never mind that. She answers my questions with nods and smiles that melt my heart. Does she know how pretty she looks when she smiles? It's obvious that she'd be stunning when she'd gain some more weight. And then, I think I'll have trouble keeping my hands off her. Somewhere in me, the logical Edward Cullen screams that she's only 16, and that I shouldn't think of her this way. She's 8 years my junior, honestly!

But my heart tells me that she's special, and either way, I decide that I just want to help her get better. For now.


	5. Chapter 5

Isabella Swan

It is time for dinner, again. In the time span between Edward coming to see me and now, I had taken another bath, and dressed myself in the warmer, and admittedly, much nicer clothing that Esme had so generously given me. I must make it up to her somehow; even if the clothing were 'old' (Esme doesn't have a very good idea of what 'old' means, by the way).

I go down for dinner, and stop short when I hear beautiful piano melodies floating up from below. I am dumbstruck at the lovely music; obviously the person playing it must be a professional musician, which I have no doubt of. Who else could play such tunes and melodies that could make one stand rooted to the spot, and forget everything else but the music? I close my eyes, and let the sweet melody bring me away into a place full of joy and happiness…

All too soon, the music comes to an end, and I open my eyes, making my way down to dinner once more. I can't help but play that beautiful tune in my head though, and an itch courses through my veins, ending up at my fingers. It's been a long time since...

Alice Cullen, Age 26

I am home for dinner today. Yesterday, I was away at a fashion show in Milan, but today, I am back with my family. Esme tells me that she has brought a new girl home, and I am excited to see her. A little sister! Can you believe it? Of course, there always was Edward, my younger brother, but a brother is not the same as a sister, and I am _excited_ to meet her.

Isabella Swan

When I reach the entrance of the dining room, I am greeted by a black haired tornado – that being said, I was at the centre of the tornado. This black… thing, spun round me, squeeling and shouting. I stood in my tracks, stunned, in the least.

"Oh, you MUST be Isabella! What a gorgeous darling! Absolutely beautiful, aren't you! My my, you'll certainly break some hearts when you grow up! Oh my gosh!"

Right… and this was…? Feeling completely lost and overwhelmed, I opted to stand there, ramrod straight, waiting for this tornado to calm down. Finally, it did. A petite, black haired, fine featured pixie stood in front of me, and before I could respond, she swung her arms around me, pulling me into a hug.

I was too shocked to respond, and too shocked for the panic to bubble up.

"I'm Mary Alice Brandon Cullen, your older sister! Oh, we'll be the best of friends, I can see that AREADY!"

Cue the squealing.

I nod, acknowledging her presence, lest she find me rude, and stand there, confused as ever. What is going on here? Esme? Carlisle? Edward? What's that large guy's name… Emmitt or Emmett? I scan the area for a sign of someone I know to help me, to sort this confusing person out before me. Finally, my eyes land on a pair of emerald one coming out of what must be an adjoining room. The relief on my face at seeing him must be obvious, because he comes straight over and admonishes the tornado pixie.

"Alice! You're scaring the poor girl!"

Edward Cullen

I come out from the living room, to see Alice harassing Bella, who appears to be desperately looking for an exit from the tornado Alice Cullen.

I tell Alice that she's scaring Bella, and some part of me yearns to pull the frightened younger girl into my arms and tell her that it's alright, and that Alice wasn't going to eat her.

Instead, all I do is to tell Bella that Alice is my sister. And that she wasn't into eating human meat, so she was safe.

Bella smiles at my comments, though she still refused to meet my eyes.

After standing around, catching up with my designer sister for a bit, Esme finally emerges from the kitchen and tells us that dinner is ready.

We walk to the dining room, and take our seats. Bella sits to my right, Alice to my left. Immediately, the close proximity to Bella has me smelling her delicious hair. Oh. My. I think I need to bottle that scent up into a perfume, and smell it every night. It smells like freesias and fresh dew, and something else I can't describe. It's just so… Bella.

Isabella Swan

Dinner passes uneventfully. I have a bowl of mashed brown rice porridge with what Emmett (Yes, the giant's name is Emmett, apparently.) calls the world's best minced sausages. Indeed, I find it the world's best too, I had never eaten anything as spectacular as it, and I find myself nodding in agreement with Emmett when he says his mom's cooking is the best.

I learnt that Alice is a designer, and that she has her own label. I also learnt that she is dating a guy, whom she describes as the most successful, most caring, most gentle and most awesome person ever. The seemingly fantastic dude she's currently dating is a psychologist, according to her.

I enjoy just sitting there; eating and listening to these people talk around me. It's interesting to hear them converse to easily with one another, so friendly, so warm and caring. It's also strangely comforting to hear them talking in kind level voices with one another, so different from the shoutings and screamings back when I was with Renee.

Carlisle Cullen

It's after dinner, and we're all sitting in the living room, talking. Even Bella is here, she sits between Edward and Esme, listening to the conversation around her, even though she doesn't talk. But the fact that she is here with us makes me very, very happy.

Alice is badgering Edward to play the piano for her, and Edward relents, as usual.

As the melodic tunes wash over us like a thin cashmere blanket, everyone is suddenly quiet, enjoying the music.

Esme Cullen

Edward finishes the song he's been playing for Alice, and we clap. Even Bella claps, her eyes wide in wonder and appreciation. She seemed to enjoy the music, but appeared distracted by our old concert harp sitting in the corner. It was a birthday present from my father to Edward when he was little, as was the grand piano. Unfortunately, Edward never did master the art of harp playing, choosing instead to concentrate on the piano. On a hunch, I ask Bella if she can play any musical instruments.

Bella nods, imperceptibly, still looking down at the floor. I look at her, and sense some nostalgia.

"Oh! Wow! What instrument, darling? You wish to continue playing it? We can make arrangements, you know."

She smiles a little, and looking up, though not fully meeting my eyes, points to the old concert harp in the corner tentatively.

"You play the harp?"

"Oh my gosh, Bella, you can play the harp? Are you serious? It's so difficult!"

"Wow, she can play that ancient instrument?"

"Bella, you must play for us!"

All at once, everyone is badgering her with questions. It appears to be a little overwhelming for her though, and she shrinks into my side, shaking her head, her eyes downcast once more.

"Guys, if Bella doesn't want to play, don't force her, k?" Edward declares, softly, coming over. I look up, surprised.

Edward reclaims his seat on the other side of Bella, and tells her softly that she doesn't need to play for us if she feels uncomfortable. I am surprised at the gentleness of his tone when he speaks to Bella. Glancing at my husband, I see that he mirrors my sentiments.

Could it be that…?

Isabella Swan

It's late, and I'm sitting on my bed, staring out the windows. I am a mix of emotions. Even though dinner passed peacefully, after dinner, things got a little… interesting. Apparently, that musician was Edward. Edward Cullen, who is a 'door away'. Wow. I am shocked and impressed. Also apparently, the Cullen's own a harp. Can you believe my luck? The minute I spotted the old yet majestic harp in the corner, my fingers started itching. Although Edward's playing of the piano was very, _very_ good, I could not fully concentrate on it, for the harp was distracting me.

I learnt to play the harp when I was 3. It was a present from my maternal grandmother before she passed. She was a professional harpist, and had tried to get Renee interested in the instrument when she was younger. However, Renee never understood the beauty of the quiet melodic harp music, and never learnt the instrument. When I was born though, my maternal grandmother wanted me to learn the harp, and hence gave it to me when I was 3. She spent hours each day teaching me to play, and despite her passing, had the foresight to ensure that I could continue with the instrument, by paying the harp instructor years in advance to continue teaching me. The harp was my only recreational activity at home for my entire life so far, my only solace when Renee hit me. For despite her dislike for playing it herself, she did not mind me playing it. I think it reminded her of her mother, whom she missed to a certain extent.

So when I saw the concert harp in the Cullen's living room, I felt a longing to play it, as a wave of nostalgia hit me. But I was afraid my playing would not be good enough for them. The conflicts of interest tore at me, and I tossed and turned in frustration. I really, really missed the instrument. The feeling of the taut strings under my fingers, the sounds that emerged when I plucked each string with precision. Surely Esme would not begrudge me that? Just once, just once. I won't spoil their instrument, for sure. Perhaps I'll ask Esme tomorrow when no one else is at home, if I could play it for a moment. Just a short while to get this longing out of me.

With that thought, in my head, I fell asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Isabella Swan

I sit at the dining table with Esme, eating my breakfast. She is reading the newspapers, while drinking coffee. Everyone has left the house, Edward for school at the University, Carlisle for work at the hospital, Alice for work… wherever, and Emmett for work, at the police station. I am alone, with Esme, and I want to tell her that I would like to play the harp. I just don't know how to.

Esme Cullen

Isabella is sitting in front of me, fidgeting with her breakfast. She looks like she wants to tell me something, and yet is hesitant to do so. I frown inwardly, surely she knows by now that she can tell us anything, and we wouldn't hit her, right?

"Bella dear, is anything the matter? Would you like to do something today? You look nervous, darling." I tell her gently, looking over the papers.

She shake her head quickly at first, wide eyed, then nods her head, then shakes it again. She looks confused, and quite frankly, so am I.

I get her a piece of paper, and a pencil.

"Darling, write it down. That way we can understand each other clearer, yeah?"

I push the paper and pencil towards her, and she writes. Her script is learned and beautiful, and the way she concentrates on putting her thoughts into words eloquently is cute. Oh, Bella. Do you know how much you mean to us? Don't ever hesitate to tell us anything, we'll do all we can to help you. You deserve to enjoy life, for once.

Isabella Swan

_Is it ok if I can play your harp for a while? Just a while, I promise I won't spoil it. It's alright otherwise though, I understand._

I push the paper back towards Esme, and she reads it, her brows furrowing.

"Bella! Of course it's alright! Heavens, you'd be doing us all a favor, using that harp for once in at least 10 years! We would love to have you play, I'm sure you play fantastically! It's no problem, Bella, really. You can play it for as long as you like, throughout your entire time here."

Wow. Esme is really generous. I scribble out my intense gratitude.

_Thank you, Esme. Thank you, thank you. I promise that I won't spoil it. _

After breakfast, we head over to the living room. Esme helps me pull it out of the corner, and wipes down the dust with a rag. It's all yours, Isabella, she tells me. No one else in our family can play this ancient thing. We'd LOVE to have you play, she reiterates.

I smile up at her, looking her full in the face for the first time. What I see shocks me. There is no hatred, no dislike, only care and kindness in her face. This lady is really a saint. I must find a way to get her canonized. Her kindness touches me, and I want to hug her, but I'm not sure how to go about doing it. Isabella Swan has never hugged anyone in her life. _Never_.

But now I felt a yearning to wrap my arms around her, to convey my thanks. Esme won't mind, right? She's hugged me before, so she surely can't find me that… appalling. Acting on impulse, I wrap my arms around her tightly, and snuggle in to her. It feels good. Like what a mother would feel like, I think fleetingly. Like what a mother _should_ feel like.

Esme hugs me back; she strokes my hair, and tells me that I'm always welcomed to hug her anytime. She tells me thanks, for letting her help me. Thanks for letting me hug you, rather, I want to say, but I don't because I can't.

After what feels like the longest time, I pull back, and she tells me to go ahead and play it. I grab a stool from nearby, and my fingers nearly dance towards the string on their own accord. I swallow my fears that I don't play well enough, and let the desire and nostalgia wash over me, as I pluck out a familiar tune, Debussy's Claire De Lune. I close my eyes, and let my fingers and the music take over. The harp works fantastically, and I feel a sense of absolute happiness and bliss for the moment.

Esme Cullen

Bella Swan is a genius. Bella Swan plays the harp beautifully, perfectly, spectacularly. I sit at the sofa, watching her play, listening to the peaceful music flowing forth from her magical fingers dancing on the harp. Her eyes are closed, and a small smile plays on her lips as her fingers move delicately along the strings. I have never listened to anything like this before; it rivals my son's piano skills.

Isabella Swan

I have been playing on and off for the last few hours. Every time I stop, the harp calls me back for more. Esme does not mind tough, she tells me that I could become a professional harpist, and that she could listen to me play all day. I am pleased, yet embarrassed by her comments. I am glad that she finds my playing acceptable, yet I'm sure that I don't play that well. But I cannot get enough of the harp, and I keep playing all the music I can remember. Some brings back bitter memories, but mostly I just enjoy the feel of the strings under my fingers. To be able to play the harp, without a worry in the world, is a very addictive feeling.

Carlisle Cullen

I open our oak double door, and the most beautiful thing I ever heard greets me. Someone is playing the harp, and playing it with such skill that I am stunned. Edward, who has come home with me today, is also shocked. We step gingerly into the house, in fear that any loud noises on our part might cause the lovely music to stop. Esme greets us with a finger to her lips, and directs us into the living room. There, playing the ancient concert harp my father bought for Edward when he was younger is Isabella Swan.

I watch dumbstruck, in awe of her skills. Her fingers are nimble and graceful, her eyes closed, a small serene smile on her lips. She looks beautiful, and …happy.

Edward Cullen

Isabella Swan is amazing. She can play the harp beautifully. My fingers ache to join her in a duet on the piano. She looks serene and happy, and peaceful. I could watch her play the harp for hours.

But all too soon, the song she's playing comes to an end, and she opens her eyes, staring at me straight in the eyes. She gasps barely audibly, and blushes a faint shade of pink. Oh, how delicate, I think. That shade of pink must be my favourite color now.

"Bravo, Isabella! Bella, you never told us you could play this well!"

Carlisle walks up to her, and claps her on the back in a friendly manner. She shrinks away from him minutely, before smiling up in his direction angelically, though not quite meeting his eyes. She shakes her head though, as if to say that it was not all that good.

I frown, and find myself telling her that it was the most beautiful thing I ever heard.

She blushes exquisitely again, and shakes her head some more. Oh, this girl is too cute, and beautiful for words. I have no clue where these foreign feelings rise up from, because I've never thought a girl as cute. The only description I offer to the female sex is that of the occasional obligatory 'hot chick' when I'm with Emmett, and when not doing so would render me gay in his eyes. Edward Cullen might not be particularly interested in the fairer sex, but he certainly _isn't_ gay.

Bella Swan

We're eating dinner, once again. Esme has prepared a delicious bowl of mashed potatoes for me, and I eat my food slowly, savoring it. It's been a wonderful day, and I feel very, very happy.

I spent most of the day playing the harp, and no one scolded me about it. Carlisle and Edward even praised me, can you believe it? They told me it was 'fantastic', and Edward even said it was the 'most beautiful thing he ever heard'. I nearly died of embarrassment, though it was nice, being complemented, even though I know I don't deserve it.

Just as I was finishing up my mashed potatoes, Carlisle suddenly spoke to me.

"Bella, how would you like to continue your education?"

Carlisle Cullen

She stares at me, or at least, in my direction, her eyes blank and confused. She looks hesitant to answer, like a deer caught in headlights.

We all sit there in silence, wondering if she was going to answer my question, or not, and I wonder if perhaps I should not have asked her so early.

Bella Swan

I freeze up when he asks me about my education. I would very much like to continue learning, but the thought of high school makes me sick. I think of the ways my classmates had humiliated me constantly, and cringe out of reflex. The way they taunted me, teased me, manipulated me, even tried to strip me just to prove that I was a worthless ugly being… suddenly I start to hyperventilate, and my stomach refuses to accept the mashed potatoes I had put in it a few minutes ago, and I feel like throwing up.

In the midst of the haze, I remember that I haven't answered Carlisle's question, and now an additional fear adds to the mess in my head. When I failed to answer my mother's questions fast enough, she used to beat me. Oh god, is he going to hit me now? I glance wildly at him, but all I see is kindness. Yet, my subconscious mind won't relent, and a wave of nausea hits me. Oh, god, I am going to be sick.

Carlisle Cullen

I see the way her eyes dilate and look wildly at me, and immediately, I know I made a mistake by asking her. I want to tell her that she doesn't need to answer me immediately, but she stands up abruptly and rushes out of the room, her hand on her mouth.

I stand to rush after her, but Edward beats me to it.

Edward Cullen

I hold her hair behind her as she retches into the toilet bowl violently. Her body shakes with the sobbing and the heaving, and thank god I'm holding her up, because her legs suddenly buckle underneath her.

"Bella, are you alright?" I ask her frantically, wondering what the hell just happened. The medical doctor to be in me starts analyzing the pallor of her skin and the way she feels so cold all of a sudden, but I come up with nothing.

I lift her up and sit her on the counter. She is crying silently now, shaking her head. She looks ashamed at herself, and I can't imagine why. Her slight frame shakes with every sob, and my heart wrenches painfully for her.

"Bella, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong, baby. Do you feel sick?"

She shakes her head slightly. Ok, well, at least she doesn't feel sick now. I grab a wash towel and run it through cold water, wiping her face and clammy skin, before giving her a glass of water to rinse out the vomit. Yet, she continues crying. I am at lost here, and this scares me.

"Bella, what's wrong? Don't feel bad about vomiting, it's no big deal, alright? We won't think any less of you. And neither will we think badly of you if you don't feel like going to school yet, its been a rough week for you, and all." I trail off uncomfortably, running out of things to say.

I wait for her to respond. After a few minutes, apart from shaking her head, she doesn't say anything, and I feel like an ass for not remembering that she cannot talk. I dig out my cell phone, and ask her to type her reply in the messaging box.

Bella Swan

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to vomit. I don't know what happened. I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, really!"

I type hastily into Edward's cell phone, and hand it back to him, avoiding his gaze. He tells me that it's no big deal, and asks me if I want to tell him why I was crying. He asks me if I was ill in anyway, and I tell him no. My stomach still feels queasy, but it's nothing that won't go away.

He wipes my tears, and washes my face with a wash towel. Amazingly, I don't cower at his touch anymore. He feels comfortable; the sensation of him touching me is almost welcoming. It feels… right and I let him wipe my hands and arms down.

Finally, he lifts me off the counter, and asks if I want to go back to my room. I shake my head; I want to tell Carlisle sorry. Through all the sobbing, with Edward there to comfort me, I realize something monumental. The Cullen's are unlikely to hit me, ever.

Carlisle Cullen

We sit at the table anxiously, waiting for Bella to come back. After what seems like forever but was only about 20 minutes, she returns, with Edward. She starts bowing frantically to me, as if to say sorry, and I am shocked.

I grab her hand to stop her from bowing, and pull her into the seat next to me gently.

"Isabella dear, you don't have to apologize for feeling ill, its part of being human. I'm sorry for pressing you on the issue of your education so quickly; we all know it's been hard for you."

She shakes her head violently, and takes out a pen and paper.

_I'm sorry; I didn't mean to react that way. I just got carried away with my thoughts, but I would like to continue studying, if it's not too much trouble._

Suddenly, I remember what the counselor told me. That Isabella had been a victim of bullying in her high school.

Bella Swan

Esme looks over Carlisle's shoulder and reads the note. She smiles beautifully. "Oh, Bella, we can get a home tutor for you if you'd prefer, for the time being until things settle down, perhaps? It's wonderful that you would like to continue your education, darling. "

I stare at her, stunned. They would get a home tutor just for me?

As if reading my thoughts, she tells me that it won't be any trouble, and that they would love to get me a tutor, if that was what I want.

I look at Carlisle, and he grins.

"What a BRILLIANT idea, Esme. I think it's great! What do you think, Bella?"

I offer him a small smile, feeling kind of excited at being able to continue studying, without the bullies of high school.

That night, I sat on my bed thinking about all that has happened today. The Cullen's have been nothing but wonderful. They let me play their harp, and would even get a home tutor for me just so I would not need to go to high school. They have never lifted a finger to hit me, and has not berated me in anyway imaginable. They are out of this world, and if I wasn't experiencing it first hand, I would not havebelieved that such kindness existed. They are such nice people, including Edward. I sigh internally. He has been nothing but kind and sweet to me, though I don't see why he would pay so much attention to me. He's a handsome medical student, and I'm just… Bella Swan. Plain, ugly, defective Bella. Why would he be so kind to me?


	7. Chapter 7

Esme Cullen

I go to the adjoining living room, leaving Isabella and the tutor in the dining room alone. The tutor was a trusted friend of Carlisle, Felix Volturi. He was a chemistry professor previously, but decided to quit his job to become a full time dad, and now gave tuition during the day to earn some extra income for the family. I know he will not hurt Isabella intentionally, for Felix is a kind man. Yet, I cannot help but worry. In the past few days, we have not brought Isabella out to meet anyone new, so this is her first encounter with someone else outside of this family, and I feel apprehensive about it. I consider Bella a daughter of mine, and I care for her deeply, just as I do with all my children.

I talk to the helper, who comes every alternate day to clean the house, and help her with the chores distractedly, my mind constantly on whether Bella is getting on fine.

Finally, after what seemed like forever but was only 3 hours, I hear Felix clearing his throat behind me.

"Mrs. Cullen, I think we will call it a day for now. If Isabella feels up to it, I shall extend the duration of the lessons the next time, tomorrow."

I nod, and thanking Felix, turn to walk him out the door. Isabella is standing at the dining room, looking bashfully at us. I smile reassuringly at her, before I follow Marcus into the foyer. Questions swarm my head, and Felix sees my unspoken queries, for he smiles warmly.

"Isabella is a joy to teach, Mrs. Cullen. She is an exceptionally bright student, and we will get through with the syllabus with no trouble at all. A young girl with such intelligence, she would catch up with the high school work with no difficulty. Of course, I am more than willing to tutor her if that is what you wish."

I nod my head, confirming that this is what we want, for Isabella. At least for the moment, until she gets better and regains her confidence. I had spoken to Carlisle previously, who agreed that unless Bella became more confident and self assured, she would be an easy target for the vultures in high school, and we did not want to her to experience that kind of stress after all she's been through.

Felix nods kindly, understanding in his eyes, and tells me that he would see me tomorrow.

Isabella Swan

Mr. Volturi, my tutor, is a very good teacher, and a very kind and patient man. This morning he arrived armed with books and supplementary materials for me. Today, we went through chemistry, biology, and literature- all of them being my favourite subjects. I am elated. As I sat there, soaking up all the stuff he taught me, I couldn't help feeling excited. I was finally _learning,_ again. The kids back at my old school used to taunt me because I enjoyed learning, and they found it weird. But the joy of learning new things, gaining new perception in life, to simply immerse yourself fully into an alternate universe, be it one of atoms and molecules colliding to form compounds, or of cells pancreas and livers, or in the Victorian times- was overwhelming. I enjoyed studying and reading, very much.

The 3 hour lesson seemed to pass in a flash, and all too soon, it was the end of the session. He gave me some assignments and homework to do, and told me that I was a very bright student. I blushed at his complement, no stranger had called me bright before, and I felt warm all over. It was nice to be complemented. Though it was something I didn't experience often with Renee – where I was grateful if she didn't insult me- I found it very likable here.

Esme comes bursting in to the dining room after sending Mr. Volturi out.

"Bella, oh darling, did you enjoy your lesson?"

I nod my head, and smile at her. Yes, I enjoyed it very much, Esme. Thank you so much for getting me a tutor, I am so indebt to you, I probably owe this life I have to you, too.

She grins, and reaches over to hug me.

I am stunned for a moment and don't respond, but when it finally registers that Esme is hugging me, I hug her back too, trying to convey my gratitude as I wrap my arms around her. Hugging was increasingly becoming a less foreign concept to me, and I actually enjoyed the human touch. The way the Cullen's would hug me so freely moved me. Here, they did not avoid me like I was the plague. Back there, Renee never hugged me. She never showed me any sorts of affection, even when she was not drunk. She hardly touched me, other than when she reached out to hit me. I was a torn in her flesh, a crack in the wall that she just couldn't help but avoid as much as possible. A mistake that resulted from a one night stand without contraceptive devices. A life time regret, for being tied down to an annoying twit of a girl.

Here, though, with the Cullen's, I felt welcomed and liked, and I reveled in that feeling. The sensation of being… wanted. Even though I still panicked over the slightest sudden movement or threat, I could sense that I was becoming more relaxed, and less tense. My muscles ached much less. Even though I still did not dare to venture any further and look into people's eyes, I was not wary of their touches anymore. I felt happy, for once in my life.

We have lunch together; she eats a casserole while I drink a bowl of thick soup. The soup tastes delicious, I enjoy it very much. Esme makes small talk, and I nod and smile. I like it that she treats me like an equal, not like an annoying ant beneath her feet that ought to be stepped on at every turn. After lunch, I go upstairs to my room to do some homework, while Esme works on some designs. Apparently she is an interior designer, and a very successful one at that, too.

Soaking delightfully in my assignments and homework, I do not realize that time has flown past until a soft rap at my door startles me.

Edward Cullen

I knock on Isabella's door softly, and poke my head in. She is immersed in her homework, and I can't help but smile. Oh, Bella, you are too beautiful for words.

I want to tell her that she looks beautiful, the way she concentrates on her homework assignments. Instead, I ask her how her day was.

She smiles brightly, and my heart stops for second. I have never seen her so happy before, and seeing her so glad over having lessons makes me fall for her even more. The logical part of my brain insists that I am a pervert; she's 8 years younger than you, Cullen, for god's sake! You a pedophile or what?

Yet, my heart tells me that she's perfect.

I try not to let my conflict of emotions show, as I hold a rather one way conversation with her, just to see her smile and nod at whatever I say. Frankly, I was not aware as much of what I said, as how she responded.

Isabella Swan

It's been a week, and I'm surprised to find that I really like it here. I have settled into a nice, pleasant routine the last 2 days. Every morning, I wake up before 8am, have breakfast with Esme, and then have my lessons with Mr. Volturi. In the afternoon, I have lunch with Esme again before doing my homework. In the evening, I play the harp while waiting for Carlisle and Edward to come home, and then we have dinner together. Occasionally, Alice and Emmett join us for dinner. It is a nice feeling, to know that I belong somewhere, that the people here don't _hate_ me. Esme has been such a dear, and so has Carlisle. Edward… he's indescribably kind and friendly towards me. I never had a friend in my entire 16 years, so a friend, albeit one that was 8 years older than me, was welcomed in my world. Edward knew what I liked, what I felt comfortable with, and what I was not comfortable with. He spoke to me about music, school work, what life is like at the University. It feels nice, listening to him talk about everything and nothing. The plain fact that he takes time to speak to me, and looks like he is actually interested in speaking to me at that makes me very happy. Of course, the fact that his voice sounds very, very nice is an additional bonus.

After my 1 week here, the Cullen's have not attempted to hurt me in anyway. They seem trustable, reliable. Knowing that the Cullen's were highly improbable to hurt me allowed me the benefit of opening up and relaxing a little. I don't feel as paranoid or tense as I did before, with Renee. Life here, is so damn good, it almost feels like a dream.

I still panic when someone moves abruptly. I can't stop my mind from thinking that that person is going to hit me, even if all he is trying to do is to reach for the vegetables across the table. But when that happens, I've learnt to try and keep my cool. Edward helps me with that; he shakes me out of the panic induced haze automatically, and I am very thankful to him.

Today is Saturday, exactly 1 week from the first time I set foot in this house. I sit at the breakfast table, and everyone who lives in this house is seated. I still can't speak, nor eat solid food, for my throat remains raw and well, bleached, so I sip at the oats quietly, soaking in the calm atmosphere. It was never calm back with Renee. Life was like walking on the tightropes, a small vibration of the rope would send me spiraling down into the abyss, ending up with bruises, cuts and broken bones.

Carlisle speaks up suddenly.

"Isabella, Dr. Whitlock has contacted me about your consultation with him. When would you like to see him?"

I stare at him. Not at him, but in his general direction. While I've grown more comfortable with the people here, I still really dislike looking people in the eye. I don't know why, perhaps it's just … an inborn trait. Dr. Whitlock is my psychologist, my psychiatrist, and my counselor. I don't dislike the guy, I just dislike counselors and psychologists in general. The idea of being mentally or emotionally unsound, to an extent to need a psychologist is really disturbing to me. It reminds me of how defective I really am, despite my shot at normalcy here, and I frown.

Carlisle must have seen me frown, because he speaks with caution. "Bella, it is for your good that you see Dr. Whitlock, yes? We can work something out if you're reluctant to go outside, of course."

I shake my head, and then nod my head. No, let's not make him come here. I've put these nice people through enough trouble already. I'll stop being a baby and go see Dr. Whitlock at his office. After all, I do want to get better. I want to be able to stop the panic attacks eventually. If it takes seeing a psychologist to get there, I'll do it.

Carlisle looks at me, confused.

Communication is difficult when I can't speak, and I wrack my brain for a way to tell him what I want. Edward hands me his cell phone wordlessly, and I accept it gratefully, keying in my message to Carlisle.

Carlisle smiles, and asks me when I would like to continue with the treatment at Dr. Whitlock's.

I shrug. It does not matter to me.

I want to get well, I tell myself. I want to lead a normal life, and make Carlisle and Esme proud. They have helped me so much, and I must help myself too. The Cullen's have taught me that Renee is really gone, she is thousands of miles away locked up in a jail cell. There is no way she can reach me here. The Cullen's will keep me safe. I am safe, here.


	8. Chapter 8

Jasper Whitlock

Isabella Swan sits opposite me in my office, once again. She looks a world of difference from the last time I saw her. Much… lighter, and happier, even. Clearly, staying with the Cullen's is doing her much good. I have revamped our sessions to cater to her inability to speak, and I hope that we would make some progress today. Carlisle had told me that Bella has displayed signs of wanting to get better her, and I am more than willing to go all out to help her. Everyone deserves a break – it's time for Bella too.

I smile warmly, and we begin our session.

"Bella, on a scale of 1 to 10, how do you feel today?"

She hesitantly puts up 8 fingers.

I grin on the inside.

"Bella, on a scale of 1 to 10, how comfortable do you feel today?"

She puts up 7 fingers.

"Bella, we're going to talk about you staying with the Cullen's. Nod if that's okay with you; shake your head if it isn't."

She nods her head tentatively, cocking her head to one side in a most endearing manner.

"How comfortable are you with the Cullen's?"

8 fingers.

"Do you like staying with the Cullen's?"

She nods her head.

This goes on for a while, until I'm satisfied that she is happy at the Cullen's. Next is the hard part – dealing with her past.

I approach this topic gently.

"Bella, you've had panic attacks while at the Cullen's, yes? Do you know what brings it on?"

A cloud passes over her face, but she nods, all the same, still cooperative. This is a very different Bella from the one before – she is willing to help me help her. She is hopeful that I can help her, and the immense trust that she is putting in my hands to help her get better makes me all the more determined to enable her to live a fearless life.

"Can you tell me what brings it on? I want to help reduce the frequency of your panic attacks. From there, we'll start to deal with other things, alright? We'll start small, and eventually attain great things, yes?"

I pass her the keyboard, and she types tentatively.

It turns out that thoughts of Renee, her biological mother, is what sends her spiraling into a panic attack. She cannot forget how Renee used to torture her, and when that happens, she shuts down and blocks everything out. It's a reflex mechanism that the body adapts to preserve itself- though not very beneficial to one's mental or physical health.

We discuss ways of helping her stop the panic attacks – at least, I inform her of ways to stop them, while she nods and appears to take it all in.

She tells (well, types, rather) that it helps when someone shakes her out of the stupor before the attack starts. She tells me that that's what the Cullen's has taken to doing, which helps, somewhat.

I am glad she is taking the initiative to help herself, and I teach her some methods to control her breathing rates so she does not hyperventilate when it happens.

At the end of our hour and a half session, we have made great headway, and I am very, very optimistic about Isabella's future.

Isabella Swan

Dr. Whitlock is nice, and for a moment, I fleetingly wonder if he is the great almighty psychiatrist Alice spoke about during dinner.

He says that I'm great, and that I can get well soon. Even though I don't think I'm great, it's nice to have people think so. Esme is waiting for me outside the clinic, and she pulls me into a hug which I don't resist when she sees me coming out smiling.

I like being hugged, by Esme at least. It feels reassuring, comforting, like what mothers are supposed to be. Unlike my own biological one.

Esme tells me that it's a nice day with good weather today, and Carlisle and she would like to bring me to the Botanical Gardens, if it's okay with me. I have no clue what's a botanical garden – a garden of some sort, probably- but I readily agree. With Renee, I never got the chance to go outside, other than to school, and I felt quite ready to venture into the unknown, especially if Esme is with me. The Botanical Garden sounds nice, interesting, at least, for I have no clue what it is.

Esme claps her hands in delight when I nod my head, and together, the three of us head off to the Botanical Garden. Carlisle smiles at me from the rearview mirror, and I smile back, timidly.

We pull up into a magnificent parking lot, full of plants. So this is the Botanical Garden- a car park of plants. WOW. I am amazed. I see greenery and colors of all sorts, and the beauty overwhelms me.

"Come on, Bella. Let's go inside the Botanical Gardens." Esme tells me, reaching out for my hands.

I put mine in hers tentatively, and she smiles. Wait – we're not at the Botanical Gardens yet?

Carlisle leads us through an entrance, with many brochures of the different plants. Finally, we enter the actual botanical gardens, it seems. The actual botanical garden is amazing. Flowers of all species line the pathway, as well as ferns, cactuses, and other plants I have never heard of in my entire life. I am entranced by the beauty of nature here.

Carlisle hands me a camera. He tells me to take pictures of whatever might strike my fancy. I happily accept the contraption, and start snapping pictures of all the amazing plants. I make a mental note to catalogue all the plants I've captured today. It is all so new and intriguing to me.

We walk and walk through the botanical gardens, and Carlisle gets a stranger to take a picture of the 3 of us. I smile for the camera, and the picture looks like that of a completely healthy happy family. My heart lurches; I cannot believe how fortunate I am now. Somewhere deep in my heart, I wish for the picture to be true. I want to belong in a happy family, too. I long to feel loved too, someday.

Edward Cullen

We are having dinner as a family again. After a long and tiring day at the hospital, brooding over stem cells that just wouldn't grow no matter what I do to them, I welcome the diversion from my final year project. Alice is chattering non-stop about her latest designs, while Emmett is attempting to stuff as much food into his mouth at once as possible (his cheeks are so stretched that I fear a jaw fracture might be his latest injury). Today, my parents brought Bella to the botanical garden, and she seemed to enjoy it a lot. I feel happy, yet sad. She is so intelligent, and yet she does not seem to have the chance to see things that most kids her age would have seen when they were a child. She has been robbed of her childhood, literally. Instead of playing in the sun and enjoying pre-school, Bella has been tortured and abused by her drunkard and mental mother. I feel sorry for her and guilty at how I simply took my very fortunate childhood for granted.

"Hey, Bella, I heard you play the harp beautifully. I haven't heard what it sounds like in ages, could you play for me, please?"

Alice is beseeching Bella to play the harp for her. I expect Bella to be uncomfortable and disagree, but she nods her head, shyly, to my greatest surprise.

We venture into the living room, and I pull out the stool for her.

Isabella Swan

Alice says she wants me to play the harp for her, and I don't have the heart to say no. Secretly, though, I enjoy playing for the Cullen's very much. They always seem so appreciative of the music I play, that in that instant when they praise me for my playing I feel wanted. I enjoy that feeling, even though somewhere deep inside my head, a voice tells me that I don't deserve it, I'm a lousy good for nothing.

Edward pulls out the stool for me, and I thank him with a smile.

Sitting down and positioning myself, I look questioningly in Alice – what would she like me to play for her?

Anything, she says. I just like hearing the sounds the harp makes. It reminds me of my grandfather.

I close my eyes, and let the music take over my fingers. A rendition of Spring, composed by Antonio Vivaldi flows out. I am feeling happy today, and Spring of the 4 seasons is a jazzy composition this evening. I let my fingers dance across the board, enjoying the taut strings under them as I lose myself in the music.

Alice Cullen

Bella looks beautiful playing the harp, and the music she makes is equally lovely. She is playing a jazz version of Spring that I have never heard before. It sounds fantastic, and I feel like dancing to the music. She is one hell of a musician, obviously.

I lean back and enjoy the melodious music as I look over her .Bella could certainly look stunning. A little layering of her hair would bring out its natural color. She looks naturally beautiful, in a quiet beauty kind of way. Her eyes are an expressive chocolate brown, and her features are delicate. Her skin is naturally white, and she really looks quite ethereal playing the harp.

I can see how she's captured my brother's attention.

Yes, you heard me right. Edward Cullen, celibate by choice for his entire life so far, called me up at 7am in the morning to tell me that he thinks he's falling for Bella Swan. Apparently, after a sleepless night, my brother realized that he was having feelings for the young brunette in the room next door, barely 100 meters away. He said that he felt like a pedophile, she's 8 years younger than him. But I have a good feeling about this. Isabella needs someone caring, someone gentle and kind, while my brother needs someone willing to look past his good looks and sizable bank account, to really listen to him and like him for his character. They will be perfect for each other, I realize, seeing my brother entranced by Bella's music.

Edward Cullen

The piece Bella is playing ends, and I applaud with great gusto and enthusiasm. A little bit too much, apparently, because my sister raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow at me. I blush. Yes, I have realized that I have fallen for Bella Swan, and hard. Yes, I know this is bordering on pedophilic. Yes, I am not supposed to fall for my younger sister, it's almost incestual.

But Bella Swan is only 8 years my junior. If I wait a few more years, she'll be legal by then. Moreover, she isn't related to me by blood, technically she isn't my little sister.

I know I cannot express my feelings to her now, she is too young, and will probably not understand a thing. But I am willing, very willing in fact, to wait. I have had girls throw themselves at me, or rather, at my looks and my fat pocket. None of them had tried to listen to me, to try to know me, and subsequently, had never caught my attention. But within a week, Bella has wrapped me around her little finger. She listens (at least, she doesn't talk), she is not a materialistic kind of girl (I would know, since she has refused to let Esme bring her shopping), and she is kind.

It is getting late, and Esme suggests we head out for bed. After seeing Alice and Emmett out the door, I walk Bella back to her room.

When we reach her door, she turns to me and smiles softly, nodding her head, as if to say goodnight. She looks positively beautiful tonight, and against all my logical thinking, I reach forward and kiss her lightly on the forehead.

Bella Swan

"Good night and sweet dreams, Isabella."

Edward kisses me on the forehead, and turns towards his own room. I am shocked – the feeling of his velvet lips on my skin sends pleasant shivers throughout my body, reaching right down to my foot. I close my eyes and savor the feeling for a moment before I close the door.

As I prepare for bed, I can't help but think about Edward Cullen. Handsome, kind, funny, understanding, smart. I know we are friends, or at least I think we are – he talks to me often.

But could it be something else?

I push the thoughts out of my mind, and crawl under the covers. No, Edward Cullen would never like me in a way a guy likes a girl. I'm not pretty, I'm not hot. I'm not smart, either – totally out of his league.

I'll be happy with his friendship – it's something I never got, at least.

Esme Cullen

We are all sitting around leisurely after breakfast, reading the papers. Bella is reading a section of the science and technology paper, and Edward is looking at her more than at his own section of the papers. I wonder if my son likes Bella in a way more than friends, because it certainly looks like it. The way his eyes glazes over every time we talk about Bella, the way he smiles at her, and the way he is just oh so gentle with her. This is the first time I've seen my son care for a girl other than his sister, and it's heartwarming. Although he is 8 years older than her, if they are both happy together, I will be happy for them too – and reassured that my son is not gay.

Edward has completely given up the ruse of reading his own section, and casually places his arms on the back of the chair Bella is sitting on, reading her section over her shoulders. Bella looks up, surprised, and he smiles genially. He strikes up a conversation about stem cells, and apparently Bella is interested, because she nods and smiles.

I leave to spend some time with Carlisle, not before giving Edward a warning look to take care of Bella.

Carlisle Cullen

My son and Bella have almost spent the entire day together, and I am pleased that they get along. I can see that my son likes Bella more than a friend, and while I trust him implicitly, I cannot help but make a note in my head to warn him to be careful with her.

I treat Bella as my daughter, and I cannot help it if I feel protective over her, even if the other guy in question is my own son.

I knock on Bella's door, and she opens it.

"Bella, can I speak with you for a bit? Are you free now?"

She nods, smiling, and I step into her room.

She still has painfully little belongings, but she looks happy in her room. Her books are spread out over the desk, and she appears to be doing some chemistry problems. I look at the chemistry problems she's working on, and the high level of it surprises me – this is certainly no average high school work.

"Bella, you must be really good at chemistry. Do you like the subject?"

She nods, smiling shyly.

"I can lend you some of my more advanced textbooks if you're interested to read more – Edward has some too. If you need help, don't hesitate to ask us, okay? We'll only be glad to teach you."

She nods some more.

Alright, here comes the hard part.

"Bella, we need you to go for a check-up at the hospital, a follow up of some sort to see if your body is healing properly. Will you be okay with that?"

Isabella Swan

Carlisle tells me I have to go to get myself checked up at the hospital, and I shiver at the thought of someone poking and prodding my body to see if I'm okay. But at the same time, I know it's inevitable, and with a heavy heart, I shrug reluctantly.

Carlisle tells me he can get a female doctor, if I would prefer. How do I tell him a female poking and prodding me is just as bad as a male doing it? The males remind me of Renee's boyfriend – the females of Renee herself. Anyone, just anyone, apart from Esme and Edward, and perhaps Alice touching me is enough to send me running for the hills – or the forests in Seattle. But I know I cannot live like this – which normal person freak out because a stranger pokes them in the arm – and I shrug again.

Carlisle sighs, and tells me that it'll be alright. He tells me that he'll make sure the doctor doesn't hurt me, and even jokes that he'll fire the doctor if he or she does. I laugh a little, and he smiles. Carlisle is gentle, and kind too. He tells me what a great job I've been doing, and schedules the check up for Tuesday afternoon, after my lessons, before leaving and telling me good night.

I shiver at the thought of going for a check-up, but I don't want to be a trouble to the Cullen's. I will be strong, and let some random doctor poke and prod me, in 2 days time. I will employ Dr. Whitlock's techniques, and starve off the breakdown, even if an utter stranger looks like he or she wants to hurt me. Because I know with the Cullen's around, no one will hurt me.


	9. Chapter 9

Isabella Swan

The doctor is a stern looking female with spectacles. She looks positively frightening, though her glasses help me remember that she isn't Renee. Renee doesn't wear glasses. I sit nervously at the edge of the chair, and Esme squeezes my hand reassuringly. The doctor seems to be taking her time to peruse my files, and after what seems like eternity, she looks back up at me.

"Isabella Swan, yes? Let's get started, then."

She orders me to open my mouth, and she shines a penlight into it. I comply, fighting the urge to lose my breakfast all over her.

She pokes and prods at my neck, and I grab the arms of the chair so tightly I thought it might snap under the force of my hold. Renee's fingers replace hers in my vision, and I try to slow down my breathing. I focus on her gold rimmed spectacles, which are frankly quite ugly, and remind myself that it isn't Renee.

This is a doctor, Bella, for goodness sake. She can't hurt you. Esme is here, she won't let it.

Finally, she is satisfied with prodding my throat and neck, and moves over to my other bruises. She takes out her stethoscope, and reaches it under my shirt. I recoil instinctively and jump backwards, heading for the exit, her cold hands reminding me of that of Renee's boyfriend's hands, which had taken that route all too many times.

Esme jumps up and grabs me by the shoulders, whispering that it's only the doctor. I close my eyes and try to calm myself.

Breathe in, breathe out. It's only the doctor with the ugly spectacles, Bella. She has no interest in what lies underneath your shirt, Bella.

I open my eyes, and the doctor looks at me perceptively. I look away out of embarrassment.

Much to my surprise, the stern doctor smiles at me, and tells me that she won't hurt me at all.

I nod, and sit back down in the chair, willing myself to hold my tears at bay. Relax, Bella, its okay.

Her stethoscope snake up my blouse, and I bite my lips, the pain grounding me, reminding myself not to lose it. Remember, Bella, try to be a normal person. Normal people do not scream during a check-up.

The doctor removes her stethoscope, and pats my hand kindly. I try to smile at her gesture of kindness, but all that comes out is a wince of some sort, I'm sure. Next, she asks me to remove my shirt so she can check on the bruises on my ribs and back. I wince for real this time. I did not want Esme to see all the purple, brown, blue, yellow, and red bruises on me. The canvas of my ribs and back could easily be mistaken for a rainbow, without the happiness and hope – a rainbow of desperation and pain, rather.

But I obey the doctor, fairly sure that she wasn't going to add to the bruises there. I hear Esme's sharp intake of breath when she sees the bruises, and I flush in shame. Yes, I was such a bad girl that my mother found the need to stomp on me. Yes, I'm that unlikable.

The doctor makes quick work of checking my bruises, and tells me that I can put on my blouses again. I did so quickly, avoiding Esme's gaze. Would you hate me now, Esme, now that you've seen how bad I am? I choke back a sob, and fight the tears.

The doctor tells me to step on the weighing machine, to take my height and weight. It's the last thing in this check up, and I do so quickly. The needle on the weighing scale sways left and right, hovering around a measly 90 pounds.

Finally, it's over. The doctor gives me a sweet to eat, and tells us to wait in the room while she go to discuss my treatment with a senior doctor. I take the sweet gratefully, and Esme hugs me, much to my surprise. Do you not hate me, Esme, now that you've seen how defective I am?

Apparently not, because she tells me how wonderful I am, and how brave I am. I smile against her shoulder. I know I'm quite awful and not brave at all, but it's nice to hear someone say it nevertheless.

Esme Cullen

I sit there with Bella, nervously. I could see from the doctor's face that Bella was not healing as she should. She was still too underweight, and her bruises were not healing and closing properly. Bella was so brave, she didn't lose it at all, even though the stress must have been too much to handle.

The doctor walks in, at last, with a big bag of medicine.

She pulls out bottles after bottles. Dietary supplements, vitamins. Medicine for to speed the recovery of Bella's collapsed lungs. More medicine to speed up the healing of her bruises and internal injuries. Another bunch of dietary supplements. I am horrified, and pained to think that Bella has to eat all of these, in addition to the already hefty amount of pills she pops every morning. But Bella looks unfazed, simply nodding politely at the doctor's instructions.

Finally, we leave the dreadful clinic.

Isabella Swan

Finally, it's over. I feel so relieved I could cry, even if I didn't just now.

I rush out the door as fast as I can, literally running out of the clinic, only to run head first into a hard object.

OUCH.

I try to run away from the hard thing I just ran into, but a pair of arms pulls me towards it.

"Oh my god, Bella, are you alright? I'm so sorry!"

I look up. Oh. It's Edward. What is he doing here? And why is he so… hard? Ouch, my head still hurts. His chest must be made of marble.

He reaches out to check my head, and I shiver at his touch. Surprisingly, I do not shrink away from it. His touch is warm, comforting, familiar, even. I find myself leaning into his hand as he checks my head for any injury.

"You should be fine, Bella. I'm so sorry though. Are you alright, though?"

I struggle to come up with a coherent thought, and settle for nodding my head, averting his gaze.

"Good."

He does not let go of me though, and still holding on to me with one hand, he turns to Esme.

"Hey, mom, want to head for ice-cream? My work at the hospital is done, for the day."

Esme looks at me. It's your choice, she seem to say.

I nod, inclining my head slightly.

"Great!" Edward beams down at me, and for a moment, I forget and look up into his emerald eyes. They stun me for a moment – the greenness and kindness and shines from it. I find myself lost in the pools of green for a moment, before I regain my bearings and look down, blushing. What is this guy doing to me?

Edward Cullen

It's dinner, once again. We had ice-cream at Bens and Jerry's down the road, and it was Bella's first time eating ice-cream. I feel sorry for her, and indulged her with scoops of different ice-creams. We share the ice-cream, and she looks so happy and carefree that my heart aches. How is it that she never enjoyed the simplicity of eating ice-cream before? How is it that her mother could bear to deprive and torture her only soul and blood?

I cannot fathom why, nor how, and make up my mind to provide for her what she never experienced. I may not be able to take the pain of the past years away from Bella, but I can replace them with new memories – let her fully experience what life is like as a teenager. A normal teenager without a crazy mother.

I am jolted out of my thoughts by Esme, who tells Carlisle that Bella was so wonderful at the check up today. She tells Carlisle that she didn't breakdown nor cry even once.

Bella looks down out of embarrassment, and I squeeze her arm reassuringly.

"You did great, Bella." I whisper quietly.

She blushes, and looks up at me shyly. Although she doesn't meet my eye, I feel warm all over.

I tell her about my work as we eat, and although she doesn't speak, she nods and smiles.

After dinner, I head over to the piano to try out a new score I bought. It's a duet, coincidentally. A piano and harp duet.

Bella sits at the sofa with my parents, and listens to me play.

I play for them for a bit, but a nagging part of me tells me to ask Bella to play the duet with me. I know it'll sound fantastic, and it'll help bring her out of the shell. Help her to interact more with people. Of course, I have my own selfish reasons – I just like spending time with Bella. But what if it's too much for her?

Hell. I'll take the risk.

"Bella? Would you like to play the duet with me? It's a harp and piano piece- we could try it out. It'll be fun!" I plead with her, trying to make eye contact.

She hesitates for a moment, and we are all silent, waiting for her response.

Finally, she nods.

Isabella Swan

Edward asks me to play a duet for him. I want to say no, because I know I'm not good enough. My playing will only drag down the quality of the song. But some part of me wants to play a duet with Edward Cullen. Another part of me wants to try this out. It'll be good to try some activities with people, Dr. Whitlock had said. Participating in activities with people will help you realize there's more to human interaction than abuse.

So I agree. Let's try this out, for a while. I'm not the best harp player you could find, but I guess I could pluck strings fairly well.

I nod, and Edward beams at me, making me feel all fuzzy inside. Gosh, he's so handsome. Why are the Cullen's all such fine specimens of human beings? I feel inadequate and ugly next to him.

But I push down my worries, and taking the score from him, I sit at the harp.

He begins the opening notes, and I wipe my hands on my jeans nervously, before starting to pluck the strings. Once I do, all coherent thought is out of my mind. I only see the notes, and hear them. It is a beautiful melody. A heartbreaking piece, from the Baroque period. I feel the music, the quiet yearnings of the composer for something he's never got, and I can relate with it.

Carlisle Cullen

I watch and hear my son and Bella play a heartrending duet. My heart soars at the sight. It's a beautiful sight, as beautiful as the melody they're playing. They play in perfect harmony, although it's their first time playing together. Their notes don't clash, they mix well in the air as they linger around. There is no confusion between them, only quiet clarity and cooperation as they play their respective instruments, to produce a wonderful piece of music.

Indeed, they seem to belong together. Edward seems to be helping Bella break out of her shell a lot, and Bella, whether she knows it or not, is also good for my son. She provides the companionship he never had. Yes, Edward had friends. But he tended to stay away from the female sex, for some strange reason unknown. For a long while, Esme and I thought he might be gay.

I can read my son, and I know he is interested in Isabella, in more ways than one, not solely as a friend. While one side of me is glad for my son, I feel protective over Isabella too. She might not be my daughter by blood, but I certainly take her as one. I hope my son doesn't hurt her, because I will definitely go after him if he does, whether he is a Cullen or not.

The song comes to an end and I am drawn out of my thinking. Esme places her head on my shoulder, and I smile against her hair. This is what a family should be – what a family is all about, staying together as a unit, supporting one another, enjoying each other's company peacefully. Bella, Bella, this is what family _really_ is. Not just a drunk abusive mother. Trust, care, love – there's more to life than fear and hate.

Isabella Swan

Edward grins at me.

"You're fantastic! My god, we should do this again. You play the damn harp so well, I'm sure my grandfather must be tossing in his grave in delight."

I laugh at him, and return his smile. Edward thinks I play well with him. Maybe I'm not that bad after all.

We stay around for a bit longer, and they talk together, calmly, happily. I listen to them, and they include me in the conversation, although all I do is nod and smile.

I feel included and happy here with the Cullen's, and I really hope they won't make me leave anymore. I want to be part of this family.

Edward Cullen

It's getting late, so I walk Bella back to her room. Once again, I tell her goodnight, and press a kiss to her forehead. The sensation of her skin on my lips leaves me yearning for more, but I pull back with much difficulty and tell her good night. She smiles, sending my heart beating into frenzy. I remember the way we played with such harmony and sync, and it reinforces the thought that Bella is meant for me, and I for her in my head. I replay the moments, the look on her face as she played the harp over and over again. They way we did not even have to look at each other to know where we were on the sheet music – the chemistry our music possessed.

Dear God, help me. Bella Swan has officially captured my heart.


	10. Chapter 10

Isabella Swan

It's been three weeks at the Cullen's. Life is good, seriously. I feel like I'm living in a never ending dream. The routine I follow is pleasant and easy enough – I wake up, eat breakfast, have lessons, eat lunch, do homework, play the harp, have dinner, play the harp with Edward, do homework, sleep. I like it immensely. Lessons are fantastic – chemistry is such an awesome subject, the way the molecules bind to each other, the forces required to break them apart. Literature is pretty cool too, and Professor Felix makes things so interesting. I enjoy learning, studying. Esme tells me what a good student I am, and I feel happy every time she says that. I don't think it's quite true. If I was such a good student, I would be in school with the other students, not at home. But I cannot bear the thought of going to school again.

_I cringe when I hear the locker room's door swing shut. Heavy footsteps follow into the locker room where I am in the midst of changing out of my gym attire. I try to change quickly. The bruises on my body are no pretty sight, and I don't want Tanya or Jessica to see them. It would give them more ammunition to tease me with. As if they don't have enough already – my prepubescent figure, my lack of any curves, my ugliness in general, my stupidity…_

_I hear the footsteps approaching, and I pull on my shirt before swinging my locker shut. I try to escape through the other door, but too late._

_Tanya is standing there, with her group of friends grinning menancingly at me. Her friends include… guys._

_What are they doing in the girl's locker room anyway?_

_I shudder involuntarily, and try to side step Tanya, keeping my head down._

_I don't want anything to do with them. But apparently they do, with me._

"_Now now, ugly duckling. Where do you think you're going?" Tanya sneered at me._

"_She doesn't think, Tanya." A male voice called out tauntingly._

_I keep my eyes on the ground, trying to make myself invisible._

"_We came all the way to see you, Isabella. Surely you must be honoured! What does an ugly being like you deserve, anyway? No wonder your mother beats you up all the time, you're so … useless, ad retarded!"_

_I blink back the tears, and try to walk past Tanya. _

_She pushes me back sharply, sending me sprawling into the lockers behind me. My back hits the lockers with a resounding clang. They stalk towards me, sadistic grins on their faces._

_The largest male grabs me roughly, and pushes me over to his friends._

"_She may be ugly, but her cherry's definitely not popped yet, dude. Want to try this one? I'm sure she'd be tight."_

_I wince, and struggle to get out of his grasp. What are these people up to? I don't want to know._

"_No no, Isabella. You're not going anywhere."_

_Tanya's friend puts her hand on my shoulders, restraining me. I struggle against her grasp, and that enrages her. She reaches over and grabs a metal pipe from god knows where, and raises it above her head. Before I have time to react, it's came crashing down on my neck. _

_My neck cannot move, suddenly, locked in position by the pain reverberating through my entire spine. I cry out, and it amuses them, for the guy starts to rip my shirt off me._

"_She'd be feisty, James. Look, she can actually make noise! Who knew, I thought we'd have a mute fuck."_

_I struggle to keep my tears at bay, as my heart beats wildly. No, please no. I've kept Renee's boyfriends from doing that all these while; please don't let James do that to me. _

_James pull off my bra, and yanks off my jeans, leaving me naked in my underwear. I cower into a ball, shrinking into the nearest corner. Suddenly, they all produce metal blades from their pockets._

_The sharp shiny metal sends me spiraling down into darkness, and I cannot hold back the tears anymore. I sob violently, and beg Tanya to let me off._

"_Tanya, ple-please! Please! Please! I do-don't want-"_

"_Oh, look guys, she can talk too! This is such an amusing discovery, ain't it! I might just need to duct tape her…"Tanya muses, paying no heed to my desperate pleas._

_They approach me, and the large guy hauls me up by the arms violently, breaking it in the process. They begin pulling the blades over my body. I scream, and beg for them to stop. Blood soaks the white tiles of the locker room, and the metallic smell fills the air. I kick and scream, trying to escape. They kick me, and continue carving shapes into my skin. I scream and scream for help._

_Out of the corner of my eye, I can see James unbuttoning his pants. I scream even louder, and Tanya puts her hands over my mouth to shut me up. I bite her, and continue screaming._

_James pins me to the ground, and straddles me. The other guy rip off my underwear. I try to fight him off, clawing at him, kicking, and screaming._

_It' such a nightmare. Please, god, let me wake up._

_He is about to enter me, when suddenly the gym door swings open again, and the stern voice of the principal rings out._

"_What's going on here?"_

_Suddenly, everything turns black._

I shake myself out of the nightmarish memories, and concentrate on my task at hand. I want to give Esme something in return for all her kindness and generosity, and I want to make her a musical box.

I had already recorded the music, tuned the machine. Now all I needed to do was to fit the machinery into the box, and decorate it.

I return my attention to my mini-project, and hope to hell that Esme likes it.

I am working diligently on painting the box, when Edward enters unannounced.

"Bella! There you are. How's your day today?" He booms, placing a hand on my shoulders

I jump, startled, and turn around abruptly, brush in hand, painting his chin blue in the process.

"I didn't mean to startle you, sweetheart! Are you alright?" Edward asks, concern lacing his handsome features.

I nod, and try to apologize for his blue chin.

It's no matter, he tells me, laughing.

He looks over at my handiwork, and I blush. It's nothing; I try to tell him, shaking my head.

"It looks wonderful! What is it, exactly?"

Just a little something for Esme, I type into the hand phone he hands me.

"Oooh, well, I'll leave you to finish it then. Find me when you're done, I bought a new music score and I want to play it together, yeah?"

I nod, shyly, looking into his green eyes. They are kind, and gentle, yet masculine. I find myself inexplicable drawn to them, and I look away, embarrassed. What is this strange feeling that Edward invokes in me?

I ignore the fluttering of my chest and the beating of my heart, and concentrate on painting the music box blue.

Edward Cullen

Bella is such a sweet thing. She's making something for Esme, to thank her for her kindness. The goodness in Bella never fails to amaze me. She is helpful, sweet, and doesn't take things for granted.

Bella has been here for three weeks, and each day, I find myself drawn to her more and more. The short time I spend with her each day has me yearning for more. We play the piano and the harp together every evening for a short while, before we retire to bed.

I treasure the time I can spend with her, even if we're physically not exactly together.

It's dinner time at last. Isabella is at the table, the blue music box hidden from Esme's view on her chair. She twists her hands nervously, unsure if Esme would like the gift.

I grasp her hands lightly in mine, preventing them from twisting together.

"Esme will love your gift, Bella. Stop worrying over it." I whisper, leaning down.

She looks up at me with her big, wide eyes, and smiles shyly.

God, what wouldn't I give to see her smiling every moment of my day.

I am jerked out of my thoughts and daydreams by Carlisle clearing his throat loudly. I glance at him, and he raises an eyebrow at me, smirking.

I release Bella's hands, and we dig in to the food.

We eat in a comfortable silence, only breaking the silence to commend Esme on her food.

When dinner is almost over, and Esme stands to clear the dishes, Bella stands too. She grasps Esme's arms lightly, catching her attention.

"What is it, Bella? Is anything the matter, dear?" Esme asks, concern lacing her features.

Bella shakes her head, and with a trembling hand, holds out the music box, thrusting it into Esme's hands.

Esme's eyes widen. "Oh, Bella, is this for me? You don't have to get me anything, you know! Oh, how sweet of you, darling!"

She pulls Bella into an embrace, which Bella returns with more enthusiasm that I had ever seen from her before.

Carlisle smiles at the scene, and claps Bella on the back in a fatherly gesture. She returns his smile.

Truly, our family has done much good for Bella.

Isabella Cullen

It has been a couple of weeks since I gave Esme the music box I had made. She seemed to like it a lot, which made me happy. Renee never did appreciate my gifts.

I am cooking dinner for the family today, because Esme has left the house to run some errands. For some reason though, there is a pain and ache in my lower belly that will not go away. My abdomen seems to clench itself periodically in a stubborn manner. I cannot fathom what is wrong, and I worry that there is once again some injury that has recurred. I hope it's not the case- I don't want to cause any more trouble, and anyway I have been taking my medicine religiously.

Shaking my head to clear the worrisome thoughts, I will the pain away as I cut up more chicken breasts to grill.

Edward Cullen

I smell the lovely aroma of grilled chickens coming from the kitchen, to see Bella cooking at the counter, a hand clutching her stomach. I frown in concern, why is she clutching her abdomen? Is she in some sort of pain?

I walk across the counter, approaching Bella from the back, when I see a dark red stain on the back of her shorts.

I panic for a moment, before I realize what is happening.

OH.

With mild embarrassment, I tap Bella on the back.

"Ahem.. uhm, Bella, I think you've gotten your period, there's stain at the back of your shorts."

I try to keep my tone neutral, attempting not to let her on to my embarrassment. I may be going to become doctor, but approaching such topics of the female sex was still uncomfortable for me.

She looks back at me in confusion.

I gesture to the back of her shorts, and she turns around. Seeing the blood, she shrieks silently, a look of panic covering her face.

"It's no big deal, really, Bella. Do you want to go and change, though?"

She looks at me in confusion through her mild panic.

Grabbing my phone from my pocket, she types, "Why am I bleeding? I haven't cut myself! What period? What's going on! Tell me, Edward!"

It was then I realize that this was probably Isabella's first period. I stare at her in astonishment, how could a 16 year old girl not have her period yet? But then I remember how skinny and malnutritioned she was, and it makes sense. I nearly slap my forehead at my stupidity. Doctor Cullen my ass.

And then I realize that there was no one else at home to help me broach the topic to her, but me. I couldn't leave her panicking and bleeding all over her shorts while waiting for Esme to come back.

"Ahem, Bella, relax. A period is perfectly normal for girls who have reached puberty. Uhm… it's just the shedding of the eh… uterine lining. It's really alright, you're fine, Bella." I stumble through my explanation, and she stares at me like I'm speaking ancient Greek.

Obviously, this was not the right approach. She had not been schooled properly, and had probably never had a sexual education lesson in her entire life. Her own mother was even more unlikely to have explained these things to her. And Esme probably had not known that she hadn't had her period yet.

"Here, Bella, let's get you cleaned up first, alright? I lead her to her bathroom, while she looks at me in shock. I hunt around the cabinets, and find a packet of tampons Esme had placed there for Bella's use, not knowing that she had not had her period yet, until now.

"Bella, this is to…um, stop yourself from bleeding all over yourself. Just follow the instructions on the cover, okay? You get cleaned up in here, and I'll find some clean clothing for you." I was probably blushing by now. Imagining Bella naked down there was probably not the best thing to do when I was so crazy about her already. It made a particularly enthusiastic organ of mine crazy too.

I step out back into her room, closing her door lightly, and find a pair of clean shorts and underwear.

I stick my hands back through a gap in the door, and pass her the clothing.

Now all that's left to do is to hope she knows how to use the tampon.

Sitting on her bed, I wait for her to re-emerge in case she needs help. Granted, I probably won't be much help with this kind of stuff. Her sweet scent from her blanket and stuff permeate the air, and I cannot help but drink in all that is Bella.

After what seemed like an awfully long while, she opens the door, toweling her hair dry.

I stand up, and ask her, "Did you know how to use… uhm, it?"

She nods, blinking. Thankfully, at that point, we hear the front door open. Esme has returned, to rescue me from this embarrassing task.

Esme Cullen

I step into the foyer, to see Edward sprinting down the stairs towards me. "Mom, Bella had her, uh, period. She's never had it uh, before, so she's uh, confused..."

He trails off into a bunch of incoherent mumblings, his face turning entirely red. I rush upstairs, to see Bella confused, holding a box of tampons, standing at the bathroom door.

I mentally berate myself for not knowing earlier, and set out to ease her embarrassment and discomfort, and to educate her about the birds and the bees.

Isabella Swan

Apparently I just had my first period, which is the shedding of the uterine lining. It signifies the sexual maturation of a girl into a women, and most embarrassingly, Edward had seen it.

I blushed in mortification when Esme had told me.

Now though, I had to go back down for dinner with the rest of the Cullen's. I contemplated acting sick to avoid seeing Edward, but knowing that I couldn't avoid him forever, I make my way down.

He is already at the table though, and I avoid his gaze in embarrassment as I take my spot next to him.

He, however, does not read my embarrassment.

"Bella, are you alright? You look kind of flushed. Are you ill?"

I shake my head.

"Alright, then. I just hope you know that it's nothing to be ashamed of, really."

I nod, still not meeting his gaze.

"I'm training to be a doctor, Bella. Such things are just normal bodily functions to me."

I nod once more.

He sighs. "Well then, play the harp with me later?"

He still wants to play the harp after this incident? He doesn't find me a freak?

"Bella?"

I look up at him, and see his ernest eyes looking back down at me. I nod.

How could I ever say no? Edward Cullen is so gentle and so kind. Although it must have been embarrassing for him to have to explain to me all _that_, he still did so, putting my welfare above his discomfort. Really, sometimes I wish he wasn't so nice to me.

Esme Cullen

I see my son attempting to ease Isabella's embarrassment, and I smile to myself. Edward has certainly matured a lot, emotionally, since Bella came. Obviously, he is very, very fond of her. I am glad that my son has found his happiness, at long last, and hope that things will be alright for them. While I do not know if Isabella likes my son in that way yet, I hoped that she would- she is the perfect match for my Edward, and I would very much like to keep her as a daughter, even after she turns 18.


	11. Chapter 11

Esme Cullen

Over the past month, Bella has improved by leaps and bounds. Her health has improved, even though she remains very thin. But she seems to be eating just fine, so we don't say anything about it. Bella has developed a strong friendship with my son, and I can't say that I'm upset about it. She is good for him, he never had a female friend who wasn't solely interested in getting into his pants and wallet before, and I can tell that he cares for Bella deeply too. I peek into his room, where interestingly enough, she is sitting on his bed, and he is attempting to paint his room. I had previously offered to do it for him, but he had said that he was more than capable of painting a wall in his room. "Mom, I'm a doctor, for goodness sakes, of course I can paint a wall."

I wonder how it'll go. My son has never had to lift a finger in his entire privileged life – painting a wall? Should be an interesting outcome.

Bella Swan

Edward Cullen is attempting to paint his bedroom walls. No, correction, he's figuring out how to paint a wall in his bedroom. Just last week, he had decided to paint a particular section of his room a dark blue to replace the white washed drywall board. Too proud to consult Esme, he is currently brooding over the instructions on the bucket of paint, and I'm sitting on his bed, chuckling inwardly at his ineptness. Honestly, you just open the bucket, and paint. How complicated can it be? When Edward enlisted my help, I readily agreed to help him paint the wall, but I never thought he would have so much trouble with it. After what seemed like 15 minutes had passed and he hadn't started painting, I decide to ease his troubles and help him get started.

I get up from his extremely comfortable bed, and grab a roll of masking tape. Taping off the windows and edges of the other walls so we won't paint it accidentally, I glance back at him. He's staring at me, mouth agape.

"Bella? Why are you taping the windows?"

This time, I burst into silent laughter. My throat has never really gone back to its previous health yet, and I wasn't sure if my voice box was still usable after …But back to the situation at hand. For all the genius Edward Cullen is, he is woefully horrible at doing manual labor. Of course, his privileged upbringing with Esme and Carlisle didn't help. I, however, had to paint the house often for Renee. I suppress a shudder at the thought of Renee making me strip the old paint of the house and repaint it again, working through the night. She took great joy and pride in making me do manual labor for extended period of times to simply watch me suffer.

I never thought I'd want to paint ever again after that incident, but here I am, helping Edward Cullen to paint his room.

"Bella? Why are you laughing?" Edward asks, worry etching his handsome features.

I stifle my laughter, and reach out for his phone to type in. He makes no move to pass it to me, so I reach into his pocket to get it myself. I fish out his phone, and he stiffens against my movement. I look up at him, but he seems to have no obvious problem with me probing into his pockets. Ah, well.

"You need to tape off the corners of the things you don't want to paint so you don't paint them. Duh." I type, and hold it out for him to read.

"Oh, I see! How smart of you, Bella!" He grins, a crooked grin that seems so ridiculously good for such an unsymmetrical feature. How interesting, I thought. Symmetrical features were supposed to look better than unsymmetrical ones, according to scientific journals. But his crooked features only serve to highlight his good looks.

I tear myself away from his face, and grab a couple of newspapers to lay over the hardwood near the wall to be painted.

"To avoid getting paint on your floor." I type.

He grins, and opens the can of paint. Then, to my utmost surprise, he removes his shirt. I balk, what the hell? In the back of my mind, I think of how Renee's boyfriends used to strip when they wanted to do that to me too, but somehow I cannot see Edward doing that, and I surprisingly do not feel afraid of his nakedness. Rather, I'm intrigued.

"To avoid getting paint on my shirt, Bella." He smirks at me.

I feel myself blush, looking at his chiseled chests and sculpted arms. Seriously, Edward Cullen belongs in the pictures of my book on Greek Statues and Architecture.

I tear my eyes away from his abs, and start to grab a paint brush myself. However, Edward stops me. He grabs my wrists lightly, and tells me, "No, Bella, you don't paint. Just sit there and watch me paint. You're just supposed to tell me whether I'm painting it right, or not."

How would I be much help that way? I cannot imagine, so I move to grab the paint brush still. But Edward is stubborn.

"No, Bella, please, just sit there and watch me paint. I don't want you to overwork yourself."

"I won't overwork myself." I type, stubbornly.

"No, you sit and watch me paint. Just tell me if I miss a spot." He pushes me lightly onto his bed, and drops a light kiss onto my forehead, effectively shutting me up.

So I sit, and watch him paint. The way his muscles move amaze me to no end, and I cannot help staring at him more than at the wall that I'm supposed to be monitoring for missed spots. Well, he was the one who told me to sit and watch him paint after all.

As he paint, I sit and can't help but think of how unafraid I had become since coming to the Cullen's. I used to take fright at the slightest provocation, and I used to shy away from fellow human beings. Touches, or even sudden movements used to send me reeling into panic attacks, but not anymore. Or was it just touches from the Cullen's that did not send me into an attack? I didn't know, but it didn't matter to me. Even better, I had found a companion in Edward – my only real friend in this lifetime. He was kind, funny, and sweet. He would find time to talk to me, even when he was on night shift at the hospital. He taught me things I never knew, and was always patient at it. Even after that embarrassing incident, he never shied away from me.

I really like Edward Cullen. I certainly consider him one of my best friends (well, he's my only one at the moment). As something more, I'm unsure. While I feel physically attracted to him, I am not sure what it all entails, and I don't think I'm quite ready to deal with such things yet.

Edward Cullen

I took off my shirt, and set to painting the wall. I saw Bella blush at my bare chest out of the corner of my eye, and it made me surprisingly proud and happy to have that effect on her. Bella has only become more and more beautiful each day- further tempting me to break my vows of keeping things platonic between us until she reaches her 18th birthday. Today, she is wearing a pair of shorts that shows of her gorgeous legs perfectly. So long, so creamy, so… perfect. I sigh and groan inwardly. The view of Bella sitting on my bed in a pair of shorts and t-shirt is enough to set the part of my anatomy that was once so dormant and quiet that my parents thought I was gay up and standing, literally. Not to mention the way she stuck her small hands into my pocket to get my phone just now -. I face the wall, and set about my task, trying to will the blood in my body to get away from that rather… upstanding anatomy. Really, it wasn't the best idea to have Bella see it in all its standing glory.

As I paint the wall blue, I made small conversation with Bella. Honestly, I didn't really need her help painting the wall. It wasn't as if I would actually let her lift a finger to paint the wall when I could do it myself just fine. I just wanted to spend time with her. Although she still doesn't talk, her mere presence is enough for me. The way she inclines her head when she agrees with something I say, the way she smiles, and god, the way her brown eyes light up when she finds something I say particularly interesting – it's enough for me. I never found a girl so interesting intelligent before, even though Bella doesn't speak.

Suddenly, I was brought out of my reverie by a small hand grabbing my arms. I turned, in shock. Bella was holding on to my arm, and it was fucking erotic, not helping my upstanding anatomy at all. Her hands were so small that they couldn't wrap around my biceps, and as she looked up at me, I found myself closing my eyes unwittingly. She shook my arm again, and I looked down at her. She gestured to a portion of the wall that I had missed completely. Sue me. In my Bella induced reverie, I had missed an entire spot of wall. I chuckled at the girl. She was actually taking my words seriously – that all she had to do was to sit and watch me paint.

I obligingly paint that portion that I had missed, and turn to her, smirking. "Perfect enough for you, Bella?"

She grins, and pulls that bottom lip of hers into her mouth. I groan inwardly. She has no idea what that action does to me.

Together, we stand back to observe my handiwork, and I must say, it looks pretty damn good. I call out for Esme, to show her that I could, in fact, paint a wall. Sure, I might be pampered, but I was Edward Cullen, how could painting a wall be anything above my unlimited abilities?

Esme walks in, and grins. She tells me that we must take a picture against the wall, and I pull bella into my side to take a picture together. She blushes, camera shy. I wrap my arms around her waist, and pull her close to me, as we smile for the camera. In that moment, I realized that Bella Swan fitted perfectly into my side, and I didn't want it anyway else, nor anyone else. Bella Swan was going to be mine, eventually, if she would have me.

Bella Swan

Once again, we're sitting at the dining table as a whole family. This happens every Friday, when Alice and Emmett come back from wherever they are to have dinner together as a family. The concept of family had always been very foreign to me, until I met the Cullen's. Here, I can see how the family functions as a 'social function unit', as they say in all the books. The warmth of everyone bantering happily, talking, chatting and eating overwhelms me sometimes, but I try to sit back and enjoy the care and happiness flowing so freely.

Alice is back from her last conquest – Milan. She is such an energetic person, I find it rather amusing. Or at least, I found it very amusing until she turned her attention on me.

"Bella! It's been quite a while, I should bring you shopping! Yes, shopping, tomorrow! Oh, I can see you looking really gorgeous if you'd dress up properly. Even without, you already look a site! Oh, anyway you need a dress for the charity gala the hospital holds every year, its coming soon, right, father? Yes, Bella, we need to go shopping, tomorrow!" Alice belts all this out in one breath, and I listened to her, shell-shocked. What? Shopping? What hospital gala? What dress?

Before I could respond to her, she launches off again. "Mother, we need to go shopping tomorrow! Oh, let's make it an all girl thing, you, me, Bella! We haven't done anything like that in ages!"

Esme responds this time, before I could say anything. "Bella, what do you think? Would you like to go shopping tomorrow? We do need to look for a dress after all, Alice just reminded me about the hospital gala. You're family now, and we would love if you could attend it."

I glance at everyone. Alice looks at me, expectantly, her eyes large and puppy like, willing me to say yes. Esme looks happy at that idea of bringing me out to buy a dress too, and so does Carlisle. Emmett is too busy shoveling food into his mouth. I glance up at Edward. He looks down at me, and smiles softly. "You don't have to if you don't want to, you know, Bella. We'd never force you to do anything you don't want to."

Yes, I'm pretty sure that they won't force me to do anything I don't want to, but as much as I hate shopping, I just cannot say no to Alice and Esme, when they seem so happy at that idea. So I nod, shyly, at Alice and Esme.

Esme pushes her hand phone over to me, they have all learnt from Edward in using their hand phone's messaging function to communicate with me.

"I don't mind, if it's not troublesome for you guys." I type, and hand the phone back to Esme.

She grins, and Alice squeals. "Oh, Bella, it's not too much trouble at all! Take it as doing me a favor; I haven't got the opportunity to shop for someone since forever!"

Alright, when she puts it like that…

The next morning, Esme, Alice and I troop into Esme's Mercedes. Before we left, Edward had held me back and whispered in my ear to enjoy myself. His low voice and breathe so near to me had made me shiver involuntarily, in a good way. As we headed to the Seattle shopping district, I couldn't help staring out the window at the passing scenery. This was my first time going shopping, and while I certainly didn't like the idea of spending money on buying clothes, it was still a new experience for me, and I was eager to know what it entailed.

I never had the opportunity to go shopping, not even grocery shopping, with Renee before. She had kept me on a strict curfew. I was to come home straight after school to clean the house, do my homework, clean the house some more, and become her object of hitting if she so desired after a bad bought of drinking. Occasionally, at night, I had some peace and could read the newspapers lying around the house or play the harp. If her boyfriends were around though, I was subjected to a whole different situation at night.

I suppressed those thoughts using the techniques Jasper had thought me. Since our first meeting, I had 2 other counseling sessions, both of which ended fairly well. Jasper had made me share with him what Renee did, and while it wasn't easy, I managed to get it out. Somehow, it felt better telling someone how she tortured me.

I turned my attention to the large shopping complex Esme was pulling into. As we stepped out of the car, I suddenly realized that there were many people here, many people that I didn't know who could hurt me. What if someone like Renee was lurking around the shopping complex? Oh dear, oh dear. I was spiraling into a panic, but then I remembered that most sane people did not go round randomly torturing strangers they saw on the streets. And Renee was my mom, not just a random person. She had a reason to beat me, these people don't. As long as I don't provoke them, I should stay fairly safe. I pulled the jacket I was wearing closer around me, as if it could protect me from the many people here that I didn't know. Alice linked her arms with me, and fairly dragged me towards the shops, with Esme laughing. I swallowed my fear that had bubbled up at seeing so many people, and placed my blind trust in Esme and Alice to keep me safe.

Alice Cullen

I saw Bella standing wide-eyed as she saw the many people around the shopping centre, and quickly pulled her along before she could get frightened. While I understood that it would be very unnerving for her to venture into a place with so many people after a fellow human being had fairly attempted to torture her to death, it was still imperative that she had the experience of going shopping. Our goal was to help her integrate into society and live a life as normal as possible, and so going outside where there were other people around was an important step. We enter the shopping complex, and I pull her into shops after shops, perusing the clothing racks.

"Here, Bella, try this one on. It should be perfect on you!" I toss Bella a dark blue satin dress that should hit mid-knee. It was one of my original creations, that hadn't gotten round to mass production yet due to sizing issues. But Bella was very slim, and this dress would look good on her. We were shopping at one of my boutiques, the last stop for the day. At all the other shops, Bella hadn't seen a dress for the hospital gala that was suitable, and so we had ended up at my boutique, scouting for something suitable for Bella. Bella, the sweet girl, was so afraid of spending money. No matter how we tried to convince her that we had a lot of money, too much of it in fact, more than we could ever spend in this lifetime or the next, she was still so frugal with her purchases, refusing to buy anything. We ended up just pushing her into the dressing room, with Esme buying whatever she looked good in for her instead.

Bella stared at the dress in her hands, unmoving still. "Bella! Go try on this dress, now. I'll be offended if you didn't at least try it."

She grabbed my hand phone and typed: But I'm sure I'll look awful in it. It shows so much skin!

I chuckled at how conservative Bella was. "You're almost 17, Bella. And it's not too much skin, just enough to make Edward go crazy, eh?"

Bella blushed like mad, and hurried into the dressing room to try on the dress. I giggled, and Esme grinned at me from opposite the rack where she was perusing some dresses leisurely.

"Alice, my daughter, your skills and creations really surprises me. It's all so nice!" My mother grins, as she looks through the dresses I designed.

I laughed. My clothing line was a big hit with people, to my great joy. It was my pride and joy, this company which I had set up shortly after graduating from fashion school in Milan.

As I laughed with Esme over some of my creations, Bella emerged from the dressing room, and made a small sound with the back of her throat to catch our attention. While her vocal chords were still out of function, she was slowly gaining back the use of her voice, and we were glad for that. I turned around, and the sight before me left me stunned. Bella looked absolutely wonderful.

"OH MY GOSH! BELLA, We MUST get that dress for you. You look absolutely beautiful and wonderful and delightful!"

Bella blushed crimson, and shook her head, disagreeing with my compliments. I was just about to chastise her for that, but Esme cut in. "Bella, you really do look wonderful in it, look at yourself in the mirror, darling."

Bella Swan

I turned to look at myself in the mirror, one hand still draped across my chest. I was sure the dress was too low cut, as it was I didn't have any boobs already, no need to flaunt my lack of it!

Surprisingly, the image of myself shocked me. I looked… almost decent. The dress was a deep midnight blue, a halter top that left much of my back bare. It hit slightly above my knees, not as short as some of the other dresses Alice had made me try. I had to admit I kind of liked it. Despite the low cut and revealing back, it was surprisingly comfortable, and not too flashy.

"See, Bella, you look awesome in it. We're getting it, ok." Alice said, with finality, but Esme cut in. "We should let Bella choose her dress for herself. If she doesn't want it, we shouldn't force her into buying it, Alice."

I quickly nodded my head, and took Alice's phone. It's alright, I typed. I'll take this one.

Alice squealed. Literally, like a chipmunk. "Oh, Bella! I'm so happy! You've just made my day!"The hyper pixie, as I liked to think of her as, jumped around. I went to change back into my clothes and held out the dress to be rung up at the cashier. To my immense horror and surprise, Alice simply put it into a dress hanger and walked out the door.

I gasped, and pulled Alice. Surely we had to pay for it, what sort of shop was this?

"Oh, Bella, this is one of my boutiques, why should I pay for my creations? Furthermore, you can't pay for this dress, because it's not in stock. It isn't a production dress, it's a one of a kind that I designed but didn't send for mass production to sell as not many people have the figure to pull it off." Alice shrugged, walking ahead. As if it was not big deal that she owned a boutique. As if it was not a big deal that she designed that dress.

I gaped at her, until Esme lightly pulled my by the elbow. "Alice is telling the truth, Bella. Let's go, okay? Don't worry about the dress."

I let Esme walk me to the car as I tried to process everything. That was Alice's shop? How many did she own? She said it was one of her boutiques, so how many others were there? I felt overwhelmed. And how genius of her to design dresses! I was starting to feel rather insignificant in this family, where there was a designer, 2 doctors, and a fabulous interior designer. Not to mention a top detective apparently, that Emmett was. Edward had told me that his brother was the top detective of the entire Washington State police force, and other police forces had apparently got him to help them in investigating particularly difficult cases. Even the CIA had wanted him, but Emmett didn't want to join them, because he wanted to work with his girlfriend on the Washington Police team. In this family of overachievers, I was starting to feel very insignificant and useless.

Before I could wallow in my inadequacies though, Alice was pulling out of the car park at an inhumane speed, chattering at an equally inhumane speed. "So, Bella, did you enjoy our shopping trip? We must come out more often like that! Did you like the purchases? Did you enjoy yourself?"

I nodded my head in quick succession, answering all of her questions. Surprisingly, I did enjoy the time with Alice and Esme, even if all I did was to try on clothes at their will and watch them pick out clothes for themselves. The sense of normalcy was very welcoming, and I almost felt like an average teenage girl shopping with her friend and mother.

We arrived at the house, and Edward came out to the porch to meet us. He helped carry all the bags of purchases in. When I walked pass him, he leant in close, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Did you enjoy yourself, Bella?"

The close proximity of his lips to my ear had me stifling a shudder – a pleasant shudder. I nodded mutely, too stunned to do anything.

"Bought anything you like? Did you find something for the gala?"

I blushed at the thought of that dress, and what Alice had said, and nodded, shrugging.

Finally, he seemed satisfied to let me go.

"Good, Bella. I can't wait to see you in it." He whispered once again, before letting me go.

I blushed even further as I climbed the stairs to my room. Oh dear. What was Edward implying? I didn't want to think about it, but undeniably, it made me happy to think that he might like me… in that way.

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**A/N: Hey thanks guys for the reviews! I know I'm kind of late in updating this story, so sorry, but things are hectic here...**

**Well, hope you enjoy this update! Next update shouldn't be too long, sometime next week:)**


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